Ranger's Apprentice 3 & 4 Bindup by John Flanagan

was the best reply he could have made. Halt was watching him closely. He didn’t take Rodney’s recommendation lightly and he knew the boy had courage to spare. He’d proven that when he’d challenged Morgarath to single combat at the Plains of Uthal.
    But there was the chance that he might have become boastful and overconfident – that too much adulation and praise had turned his head. If that were the case, however, he would have answered Halt’s sarcastic challenge immediately. The fact that he hadn’t, but merely sat in front of him, face set in determined lines, said a lot about the boy’s character. Strange how they turn out, Halt thought. He remembered Horace as somewhat of a bully when he’d been younger. Obviously, Battleschool discipline and a few years’ maturity had wrought some interesting changes.
    He considered the boy again. Truth be told, it would be handy to have a companion along. He’d refused Gilanbecause he knew the other Ranger was needed here in Araluen. But Horace was a different matter. His Craftmaster had given permission – unofficially. He was a more than capable swordsman. He was loyal and he was dependable.
    And besides, Halt had to admit that, since Will had been taken prisoner, he’d missed having someone younger around him. He’d missed the excitement and the eagerness that came with young people. And, God help him, he’d even missed the endless questions that came with them as well.
    He realised now that Horace was regarding him anxiously. The boy had been waiting for a decision and so far had received nothing more than Halt’s sardonic challenge as to the identity of the ‘good sword’ suggested by Sir Rodney. He sighed heavily and let a savage frown crease his brow.
    â€˜I suppose you’ll bombard me with questions day and night?’ he said. Horace’s shoulders slumped at the tone of voice then, suddenly, he understood the meaning of the words. His face shone and his shoulders lifted again.
    â€˜You mean you’ll take me?’ he said, excitement cracking his voice into a higher register than he intended. Halt looked down and adjusted a strap on his saddle bag that required no adjustment at all. It wouldn’t do to let the boy see the slight smile that was creasing his weathered face.
    â€˜It seems I have to,’ he said reluctantly. ‘You can hardly go back to Sir Rodney now you’ve run away, can you?’
    â€˜No, I can’t! I mean … that’s wonderful! Thanks, Halt! You won’t regret it, I promise! It’s just that I sort ofpromised myself that I’d find Will and help rescue him.’ The boy was fairly babbling in his pleasure at being accepted. Halt nudged Abelard with his knee and began to ride on, Tug following easily. Horace urged his battlehorse to fall into step with Halt, and continued his flow of gratitude.
    â€˜I knew you’d go after him, Halt. I knew that’s why you pretended to be angry with King Duncan! Nobody at Redmont could believe it when we heard what had happened but I knew it was so you could go and rescue Will from the Skandians –’
    â€˜Enough!’ Halt finally said, holding up a hand to ward off the flow of words, and Horace stopped in mid-sentence, bowing his head apologetically.
    â€˜Yes. Of course. Sorry. Not another word,’ he said.
    Halt nodded thankfully. ‘I should think not.’
    Chastened, Horace rode in silence beside his new master as they headed towards the east coast. They had gone another hundred metres when he finally could stand it no more.
    â€˜Where will we find a ship?’ he asked. ‘Will we sail directly to Skandia after the raiders? Can we cross the sea at this time of year?’
    Halt turned in the saddle and cast a baleful eye on the young man.
    â€˜I see it’s started already,’ he said heavily. But inside, his heart felt lighter than it had for weeks.

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