Free The Battle for Skandia by John Flanagan Page A

his arms around her, feeling the softness of her and smelling the fragrance of her hair and skin.
    His grin grew wider, which he wouldn’t have thought was possible. He decided there were definite advantages to being a hero.

10
    â€œYOU REALLY MEAN HORACE Is SOME KIND OF HERO IN GALLICA?” Will asked incredulously, not totally sure that Halt and Horace weren’t pulling off some kind of enormous practical joke. But the grizzled Ranger was nodding his head emphatically.
    â€œA regular figure of respect,” he said. Evanlyn turned to the muscular young warrior and leaned forward to touch his hand lightly.
    â€œI can believe it,” she said. “Did you see the way he took care of that Temujai soldier who was trying to kill me?” Her eyes were alight with an unusual warmth and Will, noticing it, felt a sudden stab of jealousy for his old friend. Then he pushed the unworthy thought aside.
    Halt had been unwilling to remain too close to the Temujai campsite. There was no telling how far away the main force might be and there was always the possibility that the two men who had escaped might lead others back to the spot.
    They had retraced the path Halt and Horace had followed, moving back toward the border crossing where they had discovered the first evidence of the Temujai assault. Around the middle of the day, they found a spot on a hilltop with a good view of the surrounding terrain and a saucer-shaped depression that would keep them hidden from sight. Here, they could see without being seen, and Halt decided to camp there while he made up his mind as to their next move.
    They had built a small fire, screened by a grove of young pines, and prepared a meal.
    Evanlyn and Will fell ravenously on the savory stew that the Ranger had prepared and for a while there was silence, broken only by the sound of dedicated eating.
    Then the old friends began to catch up on the events that had taken place since the final confrontation with the Wargal army on the Plains of Uthal. Will’s jaw had dropped with amazement as Halt described how Horace had defeated the terrifying Lord Morgarath in single combat.
    Horace looked suitably embarrassed and Halt, sensing this, described the combat in a lighthearted tone, jokingly implying that the boy had stumbled clumsily and fallen under the oncoming hooves of Morgarath’s battlehorse, rather than choosing to do so as a deliberate last throw of the dice to unseat his opponent. The apprentice warrior blushed and pointed out that his final ploy—the double knife defense—had been taught to him by Gilan and that he and Will had spent hours practicing the skill on their trip through Celtica. He made it sound as if, somehow, Will deserved some share of the credit for his victory. As he spoke, Will leaned back comfortably against a log and thought how much Horace had changed. Once his sworn enemy when they were both growing up as castle wards, Horace had since become his closest friend.
    Well, one of his closest friends, he thought, as he felt a shaggy head butt insistently against his shoulder. He twisted around, reaching out one hand to stroke Tug’s ears and scratch the spot between them the way the little horse enjoyed. Tug let go a low snuffle of pleasure at the touch of his master’s hand. Since they had been reunited, the horse had refused to stray more than a meter or two from Will’s presence.
    Halt looked at the two of them now, across the campfire, and smiled inwardly. He felt an enormous sense of relief now that he had finally found his apprentice. A weight of self-blame had lifted from him, for he had suffered greatly in the long months since he had watched the wolfship sailing away from the Araluen coast with Will on board. He felt he had failed the youngster, that he had somehow betrayed him. Now that the boy was safely back in his care, he was filled with a deep sense of well-being. Admittedly, the events of the past day had also left a