The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

26

"I guess I'll read next." Gilan took the offered book with some trepidation, and began reading.

THE SMALL CAVALCADE FOLLOWED THE ROAD NORTH. HALT AND Horace rode in the center with Deparnieux, who had changed into his customary black armor and surcoat. The raddled old hack that he had been riding was now consigned to the rear of the column, and he was astride a large, aggressive and, as Halt had expected, black battlehorse.

Halt snorted. "Joy, we're back here again." Horace let out a long breath.

They were surrounded by at least two dozen men-at-arms, marching silently ahead and behind. In addition, there were ten mounted warriors, split into two groups of five and stationed at either end of the column.

Gilan curled his lip in disgust. He might be a Ranger, but he knew enough of knighthood to know this was wrong. A blind person could see that, he thought.

Halt noticed that the men nearest them kept their crossbows loaded and ready for use.

"Wouldn't that wear down the strings?" Gilan asked. Halt shrugged.

"I suppose the thought didn't occur to them."

He had no doubt that at the first indication that they wanted to escape, he and Horace would be bristling with crossbow bolts before they had gone ten steps.

Gilan and Will exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing. Wisely, neither of them commented on the fact.

His own longbow was slung across his shoulder, while Horace had retained his sword and lance. Deparnieux had shrugged at them as he took them captive, indicating the mass of armed men around them.

"You can see it's no use resisting," he said, "so I'll allow you to hold on to your weapons." He had then glanced meaningfully at the longbow resting lightly across Halt's saddle pommel. "However," he added, "I think I'd feel more at ease with that bow unstrung, and slung over your shoulder."

Gilan smirked. "Like you couldn't do it again before he noticed."

Halt had shrugged and complied. His look told Horace that there was a time to fight, and a time to accept the inevitable. Horace had nodded and they had fallen in beside the Gallic warlord, finding themselves immediately bunched in by his retainers. Halt noted wryly that Deparnieux's generosity did not extend to their string of captured horses and armor. He gruffly ordered for their lead rein to be handed to one of his mounted retainers, who now rode at the rear of the column with them. Their captor noted with interest that the shaggy little packhorse did not have a lead rope, and stayed calmly alongside Halt's mount. He raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. Will frowned slightly.

To Halt's surprise, the black-clad knight turned his horse's head to the north and they began their march.

"May I ask where you are taking us?" he said.

Deparnieux bowed from the saddle with mock courtesy. Horace scowled.

"We are heading for my castle at Montsombre," he told them, "where you will remain as my guests for a short while."

"Guests," Alyss repeated dryly. "I'm sure that's exactly all you were."

Halt nodded, digesting that piece of information. Then he asked further: "And why might we be doing that?"

The black knight smiled at him. "Because you interest me," he said. "You travel with a knight and you carry a yeoman's weapons. But you're no simple retainer, are you?"