The Ruins of Gorlan

Chapter 28

THE RIDE TO CASTLE REDMONT SOON SETTLED INTO A BLUR of weariness. The two horses maintained the steady lope for which they had been bred. The temptation, of course, was to urge Tug into a wild gallop, with Blaze following behind. But Will knew that such a course would be self-defeating. He was moving at the horses' best speed. As Old Bob, the horse trainer, had told him, Ranger horses could maintain a canter all day without tiring.

It was a different matter for the rider. Added to the physical effort of moving constantly to the rhythm of whichever horse he was riding – and the two had distinctly different gaits, due to their difference in size – was the equally debilitating mental strain.

What if Halt were wrong? What if the Kalkara had suddenly veered to the west and were heading now on a course that would intercept his? What if he made some terrible mistake and failed to reach Redmont in time?

That last fear, the fear of self-doubt, was the hardest one of all to deal with. In spite of the hard training he had undergone over the past months, he was still little more than a boy. What was more, he had always had Halt's judgment and experience to rely on in the past. Now he was alone-and he knew how much depended on his ability to carry out the task he had been set.

The thoughts, the doubts, the fears crowded his tired mind, tumbling over each other, jostling for position. The Salmon River came and went beneath the steady rhythm of his horses' hooves. He paused to water the horses briefly at the bridge, then, once on the King's Highway, he made excellent time, with only short halts at regular intervals to change his mount.

The day's shadows lengthened and the trees overhanging the road grew dark and menacing. Each noise from the darkening trees, each vaguely seen movement in the shadows, brought his heart to his mouth with a lurch.

Here, an owl hooted and stooped to fasten its claws around an unwary mouse. There, a badger prowled, hunting its prey like a gray shadow in the undergrowth of the forest. With each movement and noise, Will's imagination worked overtime. He began to see great black figures-much as he imagined a Kalkara would look-in every patch of shadow, in every dark clump of bushes that stirred with the light breeze. Reason told him that there was almost no chance that the Kalkara would be seeking him out. Imagination and fear replied that they were abroad somewhere – and who was to say they weren't close by?

Imagination and fear won.

And so the long, fear-filled night passed, until the low light of dawn found a weary figure hunched in the saddle of a sturdy, barrelchested horse that drove steadily onwards to the northwest. Dozing in the saddle, Will snapped awake with a start, feeling the first warmth of the sun's rays upon him. Gently, he reined Tug in and the little horse stood, head down, sides heaving. Will realized he had been riding far longer than he should have been, his fear having driven him to keep Tug running through the darkness, long after he should have rested him. He dismounted stiffly, aching in every joint, and paused to rub the horse's soft nose affectionately. "Sorry, boy," he said. Tug, reacting to the touch and the voice that he now knew so well, tossed his head and shook his shaggy mane. If Will had asked it, he would have continued uncomplaining until he dropped. Will looked around. The cheerful light of early morning had dispelled all the dark fears of the night before. Now, he felt slightly foolish as he remembered those moments of choking panic. Stiffly, he dismounted, then loosened the girth straps on the saddle. He gave his horse ten minutes' respite, until Tug's breathing seemed to settle and his sides ceased heaving. Then, marveling at the recuperative powers and endurance of the Ranger horse breed, he tightened the girths on Blaze's saddle and swung astride the bay, groaning softly as he did so. Ranger horses might recover quickly. Ranger apprentices took a little longer.

It was late morning when Castle Redmont finally came in sight. Will was riding Tug again, the small horse seemingly none the worse for the hard night he'd put in, as they crested the last row of hills and the green valley of Arald's barony stretched out before them.

Exhausted, Will stopped for a few seconds, leaning tiredly on the pommel. They'd come so far, so quickly. He looked with relief on the familiar sight of the castle-and the tidy little village that nestled contentedly in its shadow. Smoke was rising from chimneys. Farmers were walking slowly home from their fields for their midday meal. The castle itself stood solid and reassuring in its bulk at the crest of the hill. "It all looks so… normal," Will said to his horse.

Somehow, he realized, he had been expecting to find things changed. The kingdom was about to go to war again for the first time in fifteen years, but here, life went on as normal.

Then, realizing he was wasting time, he urged Tug forward until he was stretched out in a gallop, both boy and horse eager to finish this final leg of their journey.

People looked up in surprise at the rapid passing of the small, green and gray clad figure, hunched low over the neck of his dusty horse, with a larger, bay horse following behind. One or two of the villagers recognized Will and called a greeting. But their words were lost in the rattle of hooves.

The rattle turned to an echoing drumming as they swept across the lowered drawbridge into the foreyard of the castle itself. Then the drumming became an urgent clattering on the cobblestones of the yard. Will drew back lightly on the reins and Tug slid to a halt by the entrance to Baron Arald's tower.

The two men-at-arms on duty there, surprised by his sudden appearance and breakneck pace, stepped forward and barred his path with their crossed pikes. "Just a moment, you!" said one of them, a corporal. "Where do you think you're off to in such a clatter and a rush?" Will opened his mouth to reply, but before words could form, an angry voice boomed from behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you idiot? Don't you recognize a King's Ranger when you see one?" It was Sir Rodney, striding across the courtyard on his way to see the Baron. The two sentries stiffened to attention as Will turned, gratefully, to the Battlemaster. "Sir Rodney," he said, "I have an urgent message from Halt for Lord Arald and yourself." As Halt had observed to Will after the boar hunt, the Battlemaster was a shrewd man. He took in Will's disheveled clothing, the two dusty horses, standing, heads drooping tiredly, and realized this was no time for a lot of foolish questions. He jerked a thumb at the doorway.

"Best come in and tell us then." He then turned to the sentries. "Have these horses looked after. Feed and water them."

"Not too much of either, please, Sir Rodney," Will said quickly. "Just a small amount of grain and water, and maybe you could have them rubbed down. I'll be needing them again soon." Rodney's eyebrows rose at that. Will and the horses looked as if they could use a long rest. "Something must be urgent," he said, adding to the corporal, "See to the horses then. And have food brought to Baron Arald's study and a jug of cold milk."

The two knights whistled in astonishment as Will told them the news. Word had already come that Morgarath was mustering his army, and the Baron had sent out messengers to assemble his own troops-both knights and men-at-arms. But the news of the Kalkara was something else entirely. No hint of that had reached Castle Redmont. "You say Halt thinks they may be going after the King?" Baron Arald asked as Will finished speaking. Will nodded, then hesitated before he added. "Yes, my lord. But I think there's another possibility. " He was loath to go further, but the Baron gestured for him to continue and he finally gave voice to the suspicion that had been building inside him through the long night and day. "Sir… I think maybe there's a chance that they're after Halt himself." Once the suspicion was voiced, and the fear was out in the open to be examined and evaluated, he felt the better for it. Somewhat to his surprise, Baron Arald didn't dismiss the idea. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he digested the words. "Go on," he said, wanting to hear Will's reasoning.

"It's just that, Halt felt Morgarath might be looking for revenge – looking to punish those who fought him last time. And I thought, probably Halt did him the most harm of all, didn't he?"

"That's true enough," said Rodney.

"And I thought, maybe the Kalkara knew we were following them – the Plainsman had plenty of time to find them and tell them. And maybe they were leading Halt on, until they found a place for an ambush. So while he thinks he's hunting them, he's actually the one being hunted." "And the Gorlan Ruins would be an ideal place for it," Arald agreed. "In that tumble of rocks, they could be on him before he had a chance to use that longbow of his. Well, Rodney, there's no time to waste. You and I will go. Half armor, I think. We'll move faster that way. Lances, axes and broadswords. And we'll take two horses each – we'll follow Will's example there. We'll leave in an hour. Have Karel gather another ten knights and follow us as soon as he can."

"Yes, my lord," the Battlemaster replied.

Baron Arald turned back to Will. "You've done a good job, Will. We'll take care of this now. As for you, you look as if you could use eight hours' solid sleep."

Wearily, aching in every muscle and joint, Will drew himself erect.

"I'd like to come with you, my lord," he said. He sensed that the Baron was about to disagree and added hurriedly, "Sir, none of us knows what is going to happen, and Gilan is out there somewhere on foot. Besides…" He hesitated. "Go on, Will," the Baron said quietly and, when the boy looked up, Arald saw the steel in his eyes. "Halt is my master, sir, and he's in danger. My place is with him," Will said.

The Baron assessed him shrewdly, then came to a decision.

"Very well. But at least you can get an hour's rest. There's a cot in that annex over there." He indicated a curtained-off section of the study." Why don't you use it?"

"Yes, sir," said Will gratefully. His eyes felt as if he'd had handfuls of sand rubbed into them. He had never been happier to obey an order in his life.