The Sorcerer of the North- Character Reaction

18

"So, this is the mysterious Keren?" Gilan mused as he was handed the book. "Well, this should be interesting."

Will scowled. "Sure."

Will turned to look. A group of five men, dressed in hunting clothes, had entered the hall as he sang. Now they applauded, encouraged by the one who was obviously their leader.

"Was he using...?" Will nodded, and Horace shook his head. "Good God."

Stocky and muscular, he had a square, open face and a wide grin. He moved down the hall now toward Will, continuing to clap as he moved closer. Then he held out his hand in greeting.

"Well done, jongleur, particularly in view of the frosty reception you've been given!"

Will closed his eyes. The thought that he had completely fallen for the act was a constant reminder to him, and one he regretted deeply.

Will took the hand that was offered. The handshake was firm, and the hand felt hard and callused. Will knew that feel. It was the hand of a warrior. Horace snorted.

"What's your name, jongleur?" the man said. He was taller than Will and looked to be in his thirties. He was clean-shaven, with dark, curly hair and lively brown eyes. His four companions stood slightly behind him. Warriors as well, Will noted.

"Will Barton, my lord." The quality of the man's clothing left him in no doubt that this was the correct address. The title was greeted with laughter, however.

"No need for ceremony here, Will Barton. Keren's the name. Sir Keren perhaps on formal occasions, but Keren's good enough any other time." He turned to the top table, raising his voice as he addressed Orman.

"Apologies for our late arrival, cousin. I trust there are some scraps of food still left for us?"

"Maybe Orman should have let him starve."

"Will..."

"He betrayed Araluen. I don't care."

Keren, thought Will, remembering the name. He was Syron's nephew and, by all reports, he was the one holding the castle together in the Lord's absence. He was said to be a capable warrior and a good leader. And, if first impressions were anything to go by, he was a totally different kettle of fish to his cousin. Will cursed under his breath.

Orman was speaking now, the distaste in his voice obvious. "The hall is used to your ill-mannered late arrivals by now, cousin," he said. Keren looked back at Will and gave him a conspiratorial grin, accompanied by a histrionic raising of the eyebrows.

"If you'll take your place, I'll have the servants bring food," Orman continued.

Obviously, the empty places at the head table were intended for Keren and his companions. "Oh," Horace said. But Keren waved the suggestion aside.

"Let's have places set here," he said, indicating the table close by Will. The young Ranger rolled his eyes. "We'll eat while we enjoy some music from Will Barton. It's about time a little fun blew through these dowdy old walls," he added, with a glint in his eye. "Let's hear something lively, Will! Do you know Old Joe Smoke by any chance?"

Halt turned a suspicious eye on Will. His former apprentice shrugged, raising his hands in submission.

"It's not like I suggested it myself," he protested. Halt harrumphed, and Pauline hid a smile.

"I still say you should sing it for us," Gilan said, fighting back a grin. Halt turned his glare on him.

"Indeed I do," Will replied. He was glad he had spent the previous weeks practicing the correct words to the song. He was confident now that he wouldn't make the mistake of mentioning "Graybeard Halt." Halt, after all, was a name famous throughout the kingdom and it would do no good to suggest that he had any connection with the legendary Ranger.