Hal - The Duellist #1

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Ring

"Franc!" she gasped. "How did you know it was me?"

They both jumped from their horses, and he caught her in a rough hug. "I didn't. My watch spotted you. We don't get many guests at this time of an evening in the autumn, so I decided to come and see for myself. I could tell you weren't from these parts."

"How?"

"Northerners don't ride so badly," he teased. "Besides, I had a feeling you'd show up sooner or later."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Intuition," he said vaguely. "So, are you coming in? That horse looks like she'll barely make it to the castle gates, so you might as well stay the night."

Hal smiled. "I was hoping the offer was still open."

"Come on, then."

They headed up the last section of track to the fort, leading their horses by the reins. Unable to disguise his delight, Franc asked her so many questions about Colvé, the court and the academy that she did not have chance to answer them all. She tried to explain something of her reasons for leaving the city, but he stopped her.

"All in good time, Hal. Let's get inside to the warmth. You're hungry, I take it?"

She nodded, realising that she had eaten nothing since Brennac.

The gates were opened by a large, burly man-at-arms. Franc addressed him with no show of formality. "Take the horses to the stables, would you, Arec? Treat the mare well, she's come a long way."

Arec eyed Franc curiously, and then peered at Hal, his eyes rounding in surprise and then creasing in mirth.

"What is it, man?" Franc snapped, his voice edged with irritation.

"Nothing, Sir." The man took the horses as bidden and Franc shook his head.

"Reprobate!" he called after him, his jesting tone at odds with his grave expression.

"What's the problem?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "The man's a half-wit, that's all. And sometimes, lass, I wonder who's in charge here: him or me."

He led her across the courtyard. She could make out little in the shadows, although the torches of a guard crossing their path or walking the battlements revealed the doors to stables, magazines and workshops. As they passed through into the keep itself, she stared up at the wall above them to notice two lanterns hung precariously aside an enormous, carved stone shield bearing the emblem of an eagle, its wings outstretched. Of course!

"Franc I must pass on to you something Marc gave me," she began.

"All in good time, girl. Let's get some food inside you first."

The warmth of the great hall was welcoming: a massive chamber framed by long trestles and benches, the darkness punctured by candles and torches which burned on the walls. Several men, women and children sat along the tables eating supper, sleeping or talking in low voices. Some turned and nodded to Franc as he headed across the room. Others barely looked up. Hal was faintly surprised at this lack of interest in the Master of Hannac himself, but thought better of mentioning it. Franc beckoned to a girl who seemed to be waiting on a few of the others with a pitcher of beer. "Elis, bring some food up to my chambers, would you?"

They passed out of the hall and headed up a narrow, winding staircase.

"My chamber is one of the smallest rooms in the entire fort, but it's the only place I truly call my own. As you see, I share the fort with everyone else who treats it as their home."