John Flanagan - The sorcerer of the North

Thank goodness we went to all the trouble of keeping this meeting secret so you could ride in here bellowing at the top of your lungs, Halt said. Will grinned at him, totally unabashed.

"There's no one nearby to hear," he said. "I circled the site before came in. If there's anyone within five kilometers, I'll eat my quiver."

Halt regarded him, eyebrow arched once more. "Anyone?"

"Anyone other than Crowley," Will amended, making a dismissive gesture. "I saw him watching me from that hide he always uses about two kilometers out. I assumed he'd be back in here by now."

Halt cleared his throat loudly. "Oh, you saw him, did you?" he said. "I imagine he'll be overjoyed to hear that." Secretly, he was pleased with his former pupil. In spite of his curiosity and obvious excitement, he hadn't forgotten to take the precautions that had been drilled into him. That augured well for what lay ahead, Halt thought, a sudden grimness settling onto his manner.

Will didn't notice the momentary change of mood. He was loosening Tug's saddle girth. As he spoke, his voice was muffled against the horse's flank. "He's becoming too much a creature of habit," he said. "He's used that hide for the last three Gatherings. It's time he tried something new. Everyone must be onto it by now."

Rangers constantly competed with each other to see before being seen and each year's Gathering was a time of heightened competition. Halt nodded thoughtfully. Crowley had constructed the virtually invisible observation post some four years previously. Alone among the younger Rangers, Will had tumbled to it after one year. Halt had never mentioned to him that he was the only one who knew of Crowley's hide. The concealed post was the Ranger Commandant's pride and joy.

"Well, perhaps not everyone," he said. Will emerged from behind his horse, grinning at the thought of the head of the Ranger Corps thinking he had remained hidden from sight as he watched Will's approach.

"All the same, perhaps he's getting a bit long in the tooth to be skulking around hiding in the bushes, don't you think?" he said cheerfully. Halt considered the question for a moment.

"Long in the tooth? Well, that's one opinion. Mind you, his silent movement skills are still as good as ever," he said meaningfully.

The grin on Will's face slowly faded. He resisted the temptation to look over his shoulder.

"He's standing behind me, isn't he?" he asked Halt. The older Ranger nodded.

"He's been there for a while, hasn't he?" Will continued and Halt nodded once more.

"Is he… close enough to have heard what I said?" Will finally managed to ask, fearing the worst. This time, Halt didn't have to answer.

"Oh, good grief no," came a familiar voice from behind him. "He's so old and decrepit these days he's as deaf as a post."

Will's shoulders sagged and he turned to see the sandy-haired Commandant standing a few meters away.

The younger man's eyes dropped.

"Hullo, Crowley," he said, then mumbled, "Ahhh… I'm sorry about that."

Crowley glared at the young Ranger for a few more seconds, then he couldn't help the grin breaking out on his face.

"No harm done," he said, adding with a small note of triumph, "It's not often these days I manage to get the better of one of you young ones."

Secretly, he was impressed at the news that Will had spotted his hiding place. Only the sharpest eyes could have picked it. Crowley ad been in the business of seeing without being seen for thirty years or more, and despite what Will believed, he was still an absolute faster of camouflage and unseen movement. He noticed another Movement now-a wagging movement-and he dropped to one knee to consider the dog.

"Hullo," he said softly, "who's this?"

He held out one hand, knuckles slightly flexed and fingers pointing down, and the dog crept forward a few paces, sniffed at the hand then wagged her tail once more, her ears rising into a pricked-up alert position. Crowley loved dogs and they sensed it, seeming to single him out as a friend at the first moment of contact.

"What's your name, girl?" the Commandant asked.

"I haven't named her yet. I found her when I was on the way to Seacliff," Will explained. "She'd been hurt and was nearly dead. Her previous owner had tried to kill her."

Crowley's face darkened. The idea of cruelty to animals was abhorrent to him. "I trust you had words with this man?" he said.

Will shifted his feet uncertainly. He wasn't altogether sure how his superiors might view his treatment of John Buttle.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes," he said. He noticed Halt's raised eyebrows. His old teacher could always tell when Will hadn't told him the full facts of a story. Crowley, his hand ruffling the fur behind the dog's ears, looked up curiously as well.

"In a manner of speaking?"

Will cleared his throat nervously. "I had to deal with him, but not because of the dog. Well, not directly. I mean, it was because of the dog that he turned up at my cabin that night and overheard what we were saying and then… well, I knew I'd have to do something about him because he'd heard too much. And then Alyss said maybe we'd have to… you know… but I thought that might be a bit drastic. So, in the end, it was the best solution I could think of."

He paused, aware that the two men were staring at him, total incomprehension on both their faces.

"What I mean to say is," he repeated, "it sort of involved the dog but not really directly, if you get my meaning."

There was a very long pause, then Halt said slowly, "No, actually, I don't."

Crowley looked at his longtime friend and said: "You had this young man with you for… what, six years?"

Halt shrugged. "Near enough," he replied.

"And did you ever understand a word he was saying?"

"Not a lot of the time, no," Halt said.

Crowley shook his head in wonder. "It's just as well he didn't go into the Diplomatic Service. We'd be at war with half a dozen countries by now if he was on the loose." He looked back to Will. "Tell us, in simple words and, if possible, completing every sentence that you start, what the dog and this person and Alyss have to do with each other."

Will drew a deep breath to begin talking. He noticed that both men took an involuntary half step backward and he decided he'd better try to keep it as simple as possible.

When he finished relating the tale, Crowley and Halt sat back, looking at Will with some concern.

"You sold him into slavery?" Crowley asked, eventually. But Will shook his head.

"I didn't sell him. I… gave him into slavery. It was either give him to the Skandians or kill him. And I didn't think he deserved to die."

"But you did think he deserved to be… given… into slavery?" Crowley asked. Will's jaw set a little more firmly before he answered.

"Yes, I do, Crowley. The man has a long history of crimes of violence. He's probably been responsible for more than one murder-not that there's any proof that would stand up in a court of law," he added.

Halt scratched at his beard, looking thoughtful. "After all," he put in mildly, "it is part of our brief to deal with cases where there's insufficient evidence for a conviction." Crowley looked at him sharply.

"That's not formally acknowledged, as you well know," he said. Halt nodded, taking the point, then continued in the same mild tone.

"So the case of Arndor of Crewse wouldn't by any means set a precedent?" he asked, and Crowley shifted his feet uncomfortably. Will looked at the two of them, puzzled by the turn in the conversation.

"Arndor of Crewse?" he asked. "Who was he?"

Halt smiled at him. "He was a giant-over two meters tall. And a bandit. He terrorized the town of Crewse for several months until a young Ranger dealt with him… in a relatively unconventional way."