Burning Bridge Read Free Page A

Redmont Fief to raise the levies of men who would make up the bulk of the army. On more than one occasion, they had been met with outright hostility—hostility that melted away as Halt exerted the full force of his personality and reputation.
    “As far as King Duncan is concerned, now is the time to settle this,” Gilan continued. “We’re as strong as we’ll ever be and any delay will only weaken us. This is the best opportunity we’ll have to get rid of Morgarath once and for all.”
    “All of which still begs my original question,” Halt said. “What brings you here in the middle of the night?”
    “Orders from Crowley,” Gilan said crisply. He placed a written dispatch on the table and Halt, after an inquiring look at Gilan, unrolled it and read it. Crowley was the Commandant of the Rangers, Will knew, the most senior of all the fifty Rangers in the Corps. Halt read, then rolled the orders closed again.
    “So you’re taking dispatches to King Swyddned of the Celts,” he said. “I assume you’re invoking the mutual defense treaty that Duncan signed with him some years ago?”
    Gilan nodded, sipping appreciatively at the fragrant coffee. “The King feels we’re going to need all the troops we can muster.”
    Halt nodded thoughtfully. “I can’t fault his thinking there,” he said softly. “But…?” He spread his hands in a questioning gesture. If Gilan were taking dispatches to Celtica, the sooner he got on with it the better, the gesture seemed to say.
    “Well,” said Gilan, “it’s an official embassy to Celtica. ” He laid a little stress on the last word and suddenly Halt nodded his understanding.
    “Of course,” he said. “The old Celtic tradition.”
    “Superstition, more like it,” Gilan answered, shaking his head. “It’s a ridiculous waste of time as far as I’m concerned.”
    “Of course it is,” Halt replied. “But the Celts insist on it, so what can you do?”
    Will looked from Halt to Gilan and back again. The two Rangers seemed to understand what they were talking about. To Will, they might as well have been speaking Espanard.
    “It’s all very well in normal times,” Gilan said. “But with all these preparations for war, we’re stretched thin in every area. We simply don’t have the people to spare. So Crowley thought…”
    “I think I’m ahead of you,” said Halt, and finally, Will could bear it no longer.
    “Well, I’m way behind you!” he burst out. “What on earth are you two talking about? You are speaking Araluen, aren’t you, and not some strange foreign tongue that just sounds like it, but makes no sense at all?”

2
    H ALT TURNED SLOWLY TO FACE HIS IMPULSIVE YOUNG APPRENTICE , and raised his eyebrows at the outburst. Will, subsiding, muttered, “Sorry, Halt,” and the older Ranger nodded.
    “I should think so. It’s more than obvious that Gilan is asking if I’ll release you to accompany him to Celtica.”
    Gilan nodded confirmation of the fact and Will frowned, puzzled by the sudden turn of events. “Me?” he said incredulously. “Why me? What can I do in Celtica?”
    The moment the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. He should have learned by now never to give Halt that sort of opening. Halt pursed his lips as he considered the question.
    “Ask interminable questions, interrupt your betters and forget to do your chores, I suppose. The real question is, Can you be spared from duty here? And the answer to that is ‘Definitely.’”
    “Then why…” Will gave up. They would either explain or they wouldn’t. And no amount of asking would make Halt deliver that explanation a second sooner than he chose to. In fact, he was beginning to think that the more questions he asked, the more Halt actually enjoyed keeping him dangling. It was Gilan who took pity on him, perhaps remembering how closemouthed Halt could be when he chose.
    “I need you to make up the numbers, Will,” he said. “Tradition-ally, the Celts insist that an