The Battle for Skandia- Character Reaction

17

"Thorn, it's your turn." The book was passed to the old Skandian.

FULL NIGHT FELL SHORTLY AFTER THEY HAD SET OUT ON THeIR way back to Hallasholm. But they continued to move, their way lit by a brilliant three-quarter moon that sailed above them in the clear sky.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "I'm almost certain none of us paid attention to how the moon sailed across the sky."

Will snickered. "It's a story, Halt."

Halt, Evanlyn and the two apprentices rode, while the Skandians maintained a steady jog, led by the jarl. Halt had suggested that Erak ride the captured Temujai horse again, but he had declined the offer, with a certain amount of alacrity. Everyone laughed. It seemed now that he had his feet firmly back on the ground, he was determined to keep them that way. His thighs and calves ached from the hours he had spent in the saddle that day, and his backside seemed to be one massive bruise. He was glad of the chance to walk the cramps out of his muscles.

Even allowing for the fact that the Skandians were traveling afoot, Halt was content with the pace they were maintaining. "Shocker," Gilan remarked. The sea wolves were in superb condition. They could keep up their steady jog all night, with only brief rest periods every hour.

Horace urged Kicker up beside Halt. "Shouldn't we walk as well?" he suggested.

Will raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked. Horace shrugged.

Halt raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?" he asked. Will snickered as he realized he'd parroted his former mentor. The big youth shrugged, not quite sure how to articulate his thought. Halt snorted.

"As a gesture of comradeship," he said finally. "It will give them a feeling
of camaraderie."

Camaraderie, Halt knew, was something that was stressed in the early
years of Battleschool training. Horace and Gilan nodded. It was part of that inconvenient knightly code. Sometimes he wished that Sir Rodney, the head of Castle Redmont's Battleschool, would give his charges a short course in practicality as well.

Horace frowned. "It is practical," he pointed out.

Halt nodded. "Alright, then. Next time you ask that, you can run with them."

"Well, it will give me a feeling of sore legs," he replied at last. "There's no point to it, Horace. The Skandians don't care whether we walk or ride. And when there's no point to something, the best idea is not to do it." Halt made a see there gesture.

Horace nodded several times. Truth be told, he was relieved that Halt had rejected his suggestion. Halt raised an eyebrow. He was far more at home in the saddle than tramping through the snow. And, now that he thought about it, the Skandians didn't seem to resent the fact that the four Araluens were riding while they walked. "Bucking beasts," Erak muttered. During one of the brief rest stops, Halt caught Will's eye and made an almost imperceptible gesture for the boy to follow him. They walked a short distance from the rest of the party, who were sprawled at ease in the snow. A few of the Skandians watched them with mild interest, but most ignored
them.

"Nice to know we're so loved," Will said, grinning.

When he judged that there was no one within earshot, Halt drew Will
closer to him, his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Oh, are we getting in on a top secret conversation?" Crowley asked with interest. Halt turned a long-suffering look on him.

"This fellow Erak," he said. "What do you make of him?"