John Flanagan - The siege of Macindaw

"Aaah, you'd have talked your way out of it before too long," he said. They smiled, and she kissed his cheek again.

Then she turned to Will. She looked deep into his eyes, then finally said, "Thank you, Will. Thank you for everything."

He shook his head. "It's me who should thank you, Alyss. You saved my life, after all."

They paused, then she leaned forward, rested her hands lightly on his shoulders and kissed him. But this kiss was not on the cheek. Once, long ago, he had marveled at the softness of her lips. He remembered that time now.

She stepped back, and again they looked into each other's eyes. Then, impulsively, she embraced him, and felt his arms go around her in return. They held each other for a long, long time.

"Write to me, Will," she whispered, and she felt his head nod.

Finally, he got control of his voice and managed to say, "I will. You too."

Then he stepped back, suddenly breaking the contact between them. He nodded to her and to Horace and said in a rushed, unsteady voice, "Good-bye, both of you. I'll miss you both so much…"

He paused, and for a moment Alyss thought he was going to say more. She actually took a half pace toward him. But he finished abruptly, "Damn! I hate farewells!"

He swung up into the saddle and, in the same movement, turned Tug's head to the southeast road. Horace and Alyss watched the horse and rider grow smaller and listened as the sound of hoofbeats faded. Once, Will held up a hand in farewell. But he didn't look back.

He never did.

At the Gathering Ground, Halt and Crowley listened to Will's report. He had already sent a written account ahead by messenger, but the two senior Rangers wanted a report in person. So much could be left out of a written report. They nodded as he described events over the evening meal. Crowley was particularly interested in his description of Malcolm's skill as a healer – as well as his ability to create illusions and images and his knowledge of arcane chemicals.

"He could be a handy person to have on call," he said. "Do you think he might be willing to work with us from time to time?"

Will considered the question. "I think he might. So long as we guaranteed to safeguard his privacy. His first priority is to protect the people who have come to him for help."

The Commandant nodded several times. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, I'd better get started on my report for the King."

Halt stood and caught Will's eye.

"Let's take a turn around the Ground," he suggested."I can't stand to hear Crowley grumbling and groaning as he tries to write reports." Will grinned and rose to join him.

They left Crowley chewing the end of a pencil and muttering to himself and walked in silence for some time. They stopped under a giant spreading oak that marked the end of the Gathering Ground. Instinctively, they sought the concealment of the shadows, avoiding the open ground around them. Part of being a Ranger, Will thought.

"You did well," Halt said finally. "I'm proud of you."

Will looked at his old teacher. The simple words meant more to Will than any number of awards or decorations or promotions. As on so many previous occasions, Halt's face was concealed in the shadow of his cowl.

" Thanks, Halt," he said.

Halt turned to look at him in his turn. Will's features were shadowed too, but Halt was a student of body language, and he saw the boy's shoulders were slumped a little. He'd felt an air of sadness surrounding Will since he had arrived.

"Everything all right?" he asked. He saw the slight shrugging movement of Will's shoulders under the cloak.

" Yes… well, no… oh, I suppose so."

"Well, there are three answers to choose from," Halt said, not unkindly. He waited, but Will didn't seem about to say anything further. They started walking again. They were silent, but the silence was a companionable one. It took them both back to old times, and they felt a warmth at the memory.

"Halt," said Will eventually, "can I ask you a question?"

"I think you just did," Halt replied, with the faintest hint of a smile in his voice. It was an old formula between the two of them. Will grinned, then sighed and became serious.

"Does life always get harder when you get older?"

"You're not exactly ancient," Halt said gently. "But things have a way of turning out, you know. Just give them time."

Will made a frustrated little gesture with his hands. "I know… it's just, I mean… oh, I don't know what I mean!" he finished.

Halt eyed him carefully. "Pauline said to thank you for rescuing her assistant," he said. This time, he was sure he saw a reaction. So that was it.

"I was glad to do it," Will replied eventually, his voice neutral. "I think I'll turn in. Good night, Halt."

"Good night, son," Halt said. He chose the last word intentionally. He watched as the dim figure strode away toward the fire, seeing the shoulders straighten as he went. Sometimes, life threw up problems that even the wisest, most trusted mentor couldn't solve for you. It was part of the pain of growing up.

And having to stand by and watch was part of the pain of being a mentor.

There was a sense of deja vu about arriving back at Seacliff Fief. Very little seemed to have changed in his absence. The shadows were lengthening in the late afternoon. The trees that had lost their leaves during the winter were busy regaining them now. There was a feeling of peace and safety about the gentle woods and fields that was in distinct contrast to the past few months.

The ferry was drawn up on the far side of the narrow strip of water that separated Seacliff from the mainland. After he rang the gong, Will waited patiently as the ferryman cast off the mooring ropes and hauled the flat-bottomed boat back across the river.

"No charge for you, Ranger," the man said automatically as Will urged Tug forward, and the little horse's hooves clattered on the ferry's deck. Will allowed himself a wry smile. Halt had taught him to always pay his way. He took out a royal and handed it down to the man.

"One person. One animal. I make that a royal."

The ferryman showed mild interest, glancing around.

"No dog this time?" he asked. Of course, Shadow had been with him when he first arrived at Seacliff, badly injured and riding on the back of his pack pony.

" That's right," Will said, and his tone told the man he didn't wish to discuss the matter. The ferryman shrugged. He was happy not to get into a conversation with a Ranger.

Will dismounted and leaned on the rope rail at the bow of the ferry as the cumbersome boat began to slide across the narrow waterway to the island. The ferryman's comment had highlighted his sense of aloneness. After weeks spent in the company of Horace, Alyss, Gundar and Malcolm, he felt the solitude all the more keenly. Even the comfort of the dog's company was denied him now.

A shaggy head butted him, and he looked around into Tug's eyes.

I'm still here.

He smiled again, then rubbed the rough muzzle and scratched behind the horse's ears.

"You're right, boy," he said. "I've still got you, and thank god for it."

Tug shook his mane in that violent, vibrating way that horses have. It seemed an affirmation of Will's statement. Will glanced around and saw that the ferryman was watching him suspiciously. He had spoken in a low tone, so there was no way the man could have heard what he said, and for that he was grateful. It wouldn't do to have it known that a grim-faced, taciturn Ranger could actually be moping from loneliness. But the fact that he was talking to the horse confirmed the ferryman's superstitious belief that Rangers were black magicians. He turned away and made the warding sign against sorcery. The sooner this one was off his ferry, the better.