John Flanagan - Erak_s ransom

'We'll rest here for a few hours,' he said. 'We'll continue on later this afternoon when it cools down.'

He ordered his men to light a fire and make coffee. He doubted that anyone would have the appetite for a meal after the ordeal they had gone through. But coffee would restore them, he knew. He watched as the older Ranger led his apprentice away, finding a scant piece of shade under the wadi bank and lowering him to sit.

The Princess and the young warrior went to approach them, offering comfort, but the older man waved them away. Now was not the time.

The boy would be exhausted, Selethen knew. They all were. A storm like the one they had been through allowed no rest for anyone caught in it. The muscles, the nerves, the mind were tensed to breaking point. The fear was overwhelming, particularly for someone who had never been through a sandstorm before. The physical and emotional exhaustion were devastating.

The other Ranger, the one they called Gilan, had moved to where the troops were lighting a fire. He waited until the coffee was ready and then took a cup back to the huddled form under the wadi bank. He squatted beside the youth and held the cup out to him.

'Here, Will,' he said softly. 'Drink this.'

Will waved the cup away feebly. He was sunk deep in misery. Gilan pushed it forward again, more forcefully, nudging him with it.

'You'll need it,' he said. 'You'll need your strength if we're going to find Tug.'

Halt looked up at him, startled by the words.

'What did you say?' he demanded but Gilan was unfazed by the question.

'I'll go with him,' he replied. 'We'll find Tug.'

For the first time, Will raised his head, taking the cup and looking at Gilan over the rim. There was a very faint spark of hope in his eyes. Very faint, Gilan saw, but present.

Halt stood abruptly, taking Gilan's arm and drawing him to his feet. He led the young Ranger a few metres away.

'What are you talking about?' he said in a low tone. 'Tug is gone. He's dead.'

Gilan shook his head. 'We don't know that. He might be lost, but how can you say he's dead?'

Halt raised his hands in a perplexed gesture, pointing to the piles of wind-blown sand around them. 'Did you just go through that storm with us?' he asked.

Gilan nodded calmly.'Yes. And I survived. So did Blaze. Seems to me you're being a little hasty in assuming Tug is dead. Ranger horses are a tough breed.'

Halt conceded the point. 'All right. Let's assume you're correct. He's alive. But still, he's lost somewhere out there. God alone knows where.'

'Lost,' Gilan repeated. 'And lost can be found. We have to take the chance. You'd do it if Abelard was lost,' he added and Halt, about to reply that the task was hopeless, stopped himself. 'I'll go with him. Give us two days. We either find Tug in that time or we catch up with you at Mararoc.'

'No, Gil. You're not coming. I'll go alone.'

Both men turned, startled at the sound of Will's voice. It was as much the conviction in his words as the words themselves that surprised them. Will, devastated with grief a few minutes ago, now had a ray of hope handed to him. And he had seized it eagerly.

'We can't weaken Evanlyn's escort any further. We all took an oath to the King to protect her,' he said. 'Of all of us, I'm the one we could spare most, so I'll go alone. Besides,' he added, 'I lost him and it's up to me to find him.'

'Don't be ridiculous!' Halt snapped. 'You're a boy!'

Will's face, dust and tear stained, set in stubborn lines as he faced his teacher, the man he respected and revered above all others. He drew breath to speak but Gilan put up a hand to stop him.

'Will, before you say anything, give us a moment here, please,' he asked. Will hesitated, seeing the stubbornness in Halt's face that matched his own. But Gilan nodded once and he agreed, withdrawing back to his position by the wadi bank.

'Halt,' said Gilan in a reasonable tone, 'let me put a hypothetical case to you. If Blaze were lost and I decided to go and find him, would you try to stop me?'

'Of cour… ' Halt began automatically. Then his sense of reason asserted itself. 'Of course not,' he amended. 'But you're a Ranger. Will is a boy.'

Gilan smiled at him. 'Haven't you noticed, Halt? He's been growing up. He's not the skinny fifteen-year-old you took under your wing any more. He's already a Ranger in all but name.'

'He's an apprentice,' Halt insisted. Gilan shook his head again, smiling at Halt.

'Do you seriously think he's not going to pass his final assessment?' he asked. 'It's a formality, and you know it. He's already more capable and skilled – and smarter – than half a dozen Rangers I could name.'

'But he's too young to… ' Halt couldn't finish the sentence. He knew that what Gilan was saying was the truth. The logical part of his brain knew that. But the emotional part wanted to protect his young apprentice and keep him safe. If Will went off alone into the desert, who knew what perils he'd be facing? Gilan put a hand on Halt's shoulder. It was a strange sensation, he thought, advising the man he respected more than any other.

'You knew the time would come when you'd have to let him go, Halt. You can't be around to protect him for the rest of his life. That's not why you've trained him to be a Ranger. You tried to do that with me, remember?'

Halt looked up sharply at that. Gilan was still smiling as he answered Halt's unasked question.

'In the last few months of my apprenticeship, you started mother-henning me something terrible,' he said. 'Remember that man-killer bear we had to track down? You tried to leave me back at Redmont under some pretext or other.'

Halt frowned, thinking hard. Had he really done that? And he had to admit that he might have. He thought now about Will and he agreed with Gilan. The boy – the youth, he corrected himself – would certainly be accepted as a fully fledged Ranger within a few months. There was nothing left for him to learn. The assessment was a formality.

'Would you trust him with your life, Halt?' Gilan interrupted and Halt looked up at him.

'Yes,' he said quietly. Gilan patted his shoulder once more.

'Then trust him with his own,' he said simply.

Will selected a horse from the ten remounts travelling with their escort. He was a roan and the smallest of the Arridi horses. It was an unconscious choice and he realised afterwards that he had probably picked a smaller horse to make himself feel more at home.

'His name is Arrow,' the Arridi horsemaster told him. He smiled at the massive longbow slung over Will's shoulder. 'An appropriate choice. And a good one. You have an eye for horses.'

'Thank you,' Will said, taking the horse's bridle and giving the girth straps an experimental tug. He'd been taught never to rely on other people's judgement when it came to a horse's tack. The Arridi watched approvingly. He wasn't insulted by the action.

There were two full water skins slung over the saddle bow and a small tent and blanket rolled up and fastened behind the saddle. Will's own camping gear had disappeared into the storm with Tug. He led Arrow back to the small group of his friends, waiting to farewell him. The horse resisted at first, turning back to his own familiar comrades and whinnying. Then as Will pulled firmly on the bridle and spoke encouragingly to him, he went along obediently.

Horace shook Will's hand wordlessly, then took the horse's bridle while Will went round the group, making his farewells. Evanlyn hugged him, tears in her eyes.

'Good luck, Will,' she whispered into his ear. 'Stay safe. I know you'll find him.'

Gilan shook hands firmly, looking into his friend's eyes with a worried expression on his face.

'Find him, Will. I wish I was coming with you.'