John Flanagan: The Ruins of Gorlan

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.

THROUGH THAT LONG AFTERNOON, WILL FELT AS IF HE HAD lived his entire life in the saddle, his only respite being the hourly changes from one horse to another.

A brief pause to dismount, loosen the girth straps of the horse he had been riding, tighten those on the horse which had been following, then he would remount and ride on. Again and again, he marveled at the amazing endurance shown by Tug and Blaze as they maintained their steady canter. He even had to rein them in a little, to keep pace with the battlehorses ridden by the two knights. Big, powerful and trained for war as they might be, they couldn't match the constant pace of the Ranger horses, in spite of the fact that they were fresh when the small party had left Castle Redmont.

They rode without speaking. There was no time for idle talk and, even if there had been, it would have been difficult to hear one another above the drumming thunder of the four heavy battlehorses, the lighter rattle of Tug and Blaze's hooves and the constant clank of equipment and weapons that accompanied them as they rode.

Both men carried long war lances – hard ash poles more than three meters in length, tipped with a heavy iron point. In addition, each had a broadsword strapped to their saddles – huge, two-handed weapons that dwarfed the swords they normally wore in day-to-day use-and Rodney had a heavy battle-ax slung at the rear right pommel of his saddle, It was the lances on which they would place greatest trust, however. They would keep the Kalkara at a distance, and so reduce the chance that the knights might be frozen by the terrifying stare of the two beasts. Apparently, the hypnotic gaze was only effective at close quarters. If a man couldn't see the eyes clearly, there was little chance of their paralyzing him with their gaze.

The sun was dropping fast behind them, throwing their shadows out before them, long and distorted by the low angle light. Arald glanced over his shoulder at the sun's position and called to Will. "How long before dusk, Will?" Will turned in his saddle and frowned at the descending ball of light before answering. "Less than an hour, my lord." The Baron shook his head doubtfully. "It'll be a close run to get there before full dark then," he said. He urged his battlehorse onward, increasing speed a little. Tug and Blaze matched the increase without effort. None of them wanted to be hunting the Kalkara in the dark.