The Battle for Skandia- Character Reaction

16

"Here, Stig." Lydia tossed the book across thee table, and the Skandian caught it at the last second.

HALT STOPPED TWICE MORE TO SLOW DOWN THE RIDERS BEHIND them. Both times, he dismounted, allowing Abelard to trot around the next bend in the trail so that he was out of sight. Then Halt waited, standing in the deep shadows thrown by the pine trees, almost invisible in the gray and green mottled cloak. Halt smiled.

When the Temujai riders appeared around a bend in the trail behind him, Halt launched two arrows at maximum range, on a high parabolic flight. "How did arithmetic get into this?" Horace muttered. It was a subject they'd learned that he truly despised. Each time, the horsemen weren't even aware that they were being fired on until two of their number threw up their hands and tumbled from their saddles into the snow.

Halt chose his ambush positions carefully. He selected places where there was a clear sight of the trail behind him, but he didn't choose every such section. After the third attack, every time the Temujai approached a bend in the trail, they slowed their pursuit, fearing they would be riding into another volley of black-shafted arrows arcing down out of the sky at them. Halt smirked.

On the last two occasions they didn't even see Halt before he moved to remount Abelard. They soon began to rationalize, arguing that there was no real need to capture the two men who had been spying on their camp. There was, after all, little that two men could do to harm them—Halt raised an eyebrow—and if they alerted the Skandian forces, well, the Temujai had come here prepared to fight anyway.

"And so did we," Halt said. "A bit sure of himself, isn't he?"

This was the result Halt had been hoping for. After stopping twice, he urged Abelard into a steady gallop, soon overtaking Erak as he lurched and swayed on the saddle of his now cantering horse. Someone laughed. Erak heard the muffled pounding of hooves behind him and swung awkwardly in the saddle, half expecting to see a group of Temujai coming up behind. He relaxed as he recognized the gray-cloaked figure of the Ranger. His horse, without anyone to continue urging it on, slackened its pace as Abelard pounded up alongside. Halt checked him for a few strides, matching the Temujai mount's pace.

"Slow," Halt muttered. Erak rolled his eyes.

"Where have . . . you been?" Erak asked, in that same jerky manner. Svengal snickered.

Halt gestured to the trail behind him. "Buying us some time," he replied. "Can't you keep that nag of yours running faster than that?" Erak scoffed.

Erak looked insulted. He'd thought he was doing rather well. The Rangers exchanged a glance.

"I'll have you know I'm an excellent rider," he said stiffly. Halt coughed. Halt glanced over his shoulder. There was no sign of any pursuit, but there was no knowing how long the Temujai would take to realize that he wasn't waiting for them at every corner. If they continued at this gentle, ambling pace, the riders behind them would make up the lost distance in no time.

"You may believe you're an excellent rider," he called, "but there are a score or so of Temujai back there who actually are. Now get moving!" Erak rolled his eyes again, and Halt raised an eyebrow.

Erak saw the longbow rise, and begin to fall on his horse's rump once more. This time, he didn't waste breath or time yelling at Halt not to do it. Halt smirked. "It was amusing watching you hang on for dear life." He grabbed a handful of mane and hung on for dear life as the horse bolted away underneath him. Bouncing and jouncing in exquisite pain, he consoled himself with the thought that, when this was over, he would separate the Ranger from his head.