stolen so far?”
He eased the pressure on the knife and this time Carney was able to manage a nod. His fingers fluttered toward the belt pouch that he wore at his waist, then stopped as he realized what he was doing. But Gilan had caught the gesture. With his free hand, he ripped open the pouch and fumbled inside it, finally withdrawing a grubby sheet of paper, folded in quarters. He passed it to Will.
“Take a look,” he said briefly, and Will unfolded the paper, revealing a clumsily drawn map with reference points, directions and distances all indicated.
“They’ve buried their loot, by the look of this,” he said, and Gilan nodded, smiling thinly.
“Good. Then without their map, they won’t be able to find it again,” he said, and Carney’s eyes shot wide open in protest.
“But that’s ours…” he began, stopping as he saw the dangerous glint in Gilan’s eyes.
“It was stolen,” the Ranger said, in a very low voice. “You crept in like jackals and stole it from people who are obviously in deep trouble. It’s not yours. It’s theirs. Or their family’s, if they’re still alive.”
“They’re still alive,” said a new voice from behind them. “They’ve run from Morgarath—those he hasn’t already captured.”
12
S IR M ONTAGUE KEPT A LYSS WAITING FOR OVER AN HOUR BEFORE deigning to receive her.
Halt and Alyss waited in the anteroom to Montague’s office. Halt stood to one side, leaning impassively on his longbow. Montague was an oaf, he thought. As a Courier on official business Alyss should have been greeted without delay. Obviously aware of her youth, the Master of Cobram Keep was attempting to assert his own importance by treating her as an everyday messenger.
He watched the girl approvingly as she sat, straight-backed and erect, in one of the hard chairs in the anteroom. She appeared calm and unflustered in spite of the insult she was being offered. She had changed from her riding clothes when they were a few kilometers from the castle and she was now dressed in the simple but elegant white gown of a Courier. The bronze laurel branch pin, the symbol of her authority, fastened a short blue cape at her right shoulder.
For his part, Halt had left his distinctive mottled Ranger’s cloak folded on the pommel of Abelard’s saddle. His longbow and quiver, however, he retained. He never went anywhere without them.
Alyss glanced up at him and he nodded, almost imperceptibly, to her. Don’t let him make you angry. She returned the nod, acknowledging the message. Her hands, which were clenched into fists on her knees, slowly relaxed as she took several deep breaths.
This girl is very good, Halt thought.
Montague’s secretary had obviously been well briefed by his master. After peremptorily waving Alyss to a chair and leaving Halt to stand, he had busied himself with paperwork and resolutely ignored them—rising several times to take items in to the inner office. Finally, at the sound of a small bell tinkling from beyond the door, he looked up and gestured toward the office.
“You can go in now,” he said disinterestedly. Alyss frowned slightly. Protocol dictated that a Courier should be properly announced, but the man obviously had no intention of doing so. She rose gracefully and moved toward the door, Halt following. That got the secretary’s attention.
“You can wait here, forester,” he said rudely. Without the cloak, there was little to distinguish Halt from a yeoman. He was dressed in simple brown leggings, soft leather boots and a green surcoat. The double knife scabbard had apparently escaped the secretary’s notice. Or perhaps he didn’t realize its significance.
“He’s with me,” Alyss said. The unmistakable tone of authority in her voice stopped the man cold. He hesitated, then rose from behind the desk and moved toward Halt.
“Very well. But you’d better leave that bow with me,” he said, without quite the certainty that he had displayed earlier. He
He eased the pressure on the knife and this time Carney was able to manage a nod. His fingers fluttered toward the belt pouch that he wore at his waist, then stopped as he realized what he was doing. But Gilan had caught the gesture. With his free hand, he ripped open the pouch and fumbled inside it, finally withdrawing a grubby sheet of paper, folded in quarters. He passed it to Will.
“Take a look,” he said briefly, and Will unfolded the paper, revealing a clumsily drawn map with reference points, directions and distances all indicated.
“They’ve buried their loot, by the look of this,” he said, and Gilan nodded, smiling thinly.
“Good. Then without their map, they won’t be able to find it again,” he said, and Carney’s eyes shot wide open in protest.
“But that’s ours…” he began, stopping as he saw the dangerous glint in Gilan’s eyes.
“It was stolen,” the Ranger said, in a very low voice. “You crept in like jackals and stole it from people who are obviously in deep trouble. It’s not yours. It’s theirs. Or their family’s, if they’re still alive.”
“They’re still alive,” said a new voice from behind them. “They’ve run from Morgarath—those he hasn’t already captured.”
12
S IR M ONTAGUE KEPT A LYSS WAITING FOR OVER AN HOUR BEFORE deigning to receive her.
Halt and Alyss waited in the anteroom to Montague’s office. Halt stood to one side, leaning impassively on his longbow. Montague was an oaf, he thought. As a Courier on official business Alyss should have been greeted without delay. Obviously aware of her youth, the Master of Cobram Keep was attempting to assert his own importance by treating her as an everyday messenger.
He watched the girl approvingly as she sat, straight-backed and erect, in one of the hard chairs in the anteroom. She appeared calm and unflustered in spite of the insult she was being offered. She had changed from her riding clothes when they were a few kilometers from the castle and she was now dressed in the simple but elegant white gown of a Courier. The bronze laurel branch pin, the symbol of her authority, fastened a short blue cape at her right shoulder.
For his part, Halt had left his distinctive mottled Ranger’s cloak folded on the pommel of Abelard’s saddle. His longbow and quiver, however, he retained. He never went anywhere without them.
Alyss glanced up at him and he nodded, almost imperceptibly, to her. Don’t let him make you angry. She returned the nod, acknowledging the message. Her hands, which were clenched into fists on her knees, slowly relaxed as she took several deep breaths.
This girl is very good, Halt thought.
Montague’s secretary had obviously been well briefed by his master. After peremptorily waving Alyss to a chair and leaving Halt to stand, he had busied himself with paperwork and resolutely ignored them—rising several times to take items in to the inner office. Finally, at the sound of a small bell tinkling from beyond the door, he looked up and gestured toward the office.
“You can go in now,” he said disinterestedly. Alyss frowned slightly. Protocol dictated that a Courier should be properly announced, but the man obviously had no intention of doing so. She rose gracefully and moved toward the door, Halt following. That got the secretary’s attention.
“You can wait here, forester,” he said rudely. Without the cloak, there was little to distinguish Halt from a yeoman. He was dressed in simple brown leggings, soft leather boots and a green surcoat. The double knife scabbard had apparently escaped the secretary’s notice. Or perhaps he didn’t realize its significance.
“He’s with me,” Alyss said. The unmistakable tone of authority in her voice stopped the man cold. He hesitated, then rose from behind the desk and moved toward Halt.
“Very well. But you’d better leave that bow with me,” he said, without quite the certainty that he had displayed earlier. He
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