That, more than anything else, made Halt feel that perhaps Will was right. Perhaps he hadn't recovered as fully as he thought. Time was that he would have shaken off the effects of the poisoning in a matter of a few hours. But perhaps that time was behind him. For the first time, Halt had a sense of his own limitations.
At Malcolm's urging, Horace brought Kicker up alongside Abelard, on the other side to Tug and Will.
'Will's right,' he said. 'You're pushing too hard. If you keep this up, you'll have a relapse.'
'And that will lose more time than if you simply take a little time to recover now,' Malcolm put in. Halt glared from one to the other.
'What is this?' he asked. 'Are you all conspiring against me? Even my horse?'
It was the last three words that made Will smile. 'We figured you mightn't listen to a healer, a Ranger or a knight of the realm,' he said. 'But if your horse agreed with them, you'd have no choice but to pay attention.'
In spite of himself, Halt couldn't help the faintest hint of a smile touching his own mouth. He tried to hide it but the corners of his mouth twitched defiantly. He realised, when he considered the position honestly, that his friends weren't urging him to rest in order to annoy him. They were doing so because they cared about him and they were worried about him. And he realised that he respected their judgement enough to admit that perhaps they might be right and he might be wrong. And there were very few people who could bring Halt to admit that.
'Halt, you need to rest. If you'll just stop being stubborn and admit it, we'll make better time in the long run. Stay here for a day, get your strength back. Horace and I can push on ahead and scout the situation. If you're right, Tennyson will have set up at these caves. So there's no rush any more to catch up with him.'
Will's tone was reasonable, not argumentative, and he saw from Halt's body language that he was on the brink of giving in. Seeing that he needed just one more mental shove, Will provided it, invoking the ultimate authority in the bearded Ranger's world.
'You know Lady Pauline would agree with me,' he said.
Halt's head jerked up at the name. 'Pauline? What does she have to do with this situation?'
Will held his gaze steadily. 'If you continue the way you are, I'll have to go back and face her, and tell her I failed in the task she set me.'
Halt opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him. He closed his mouth again, realising how foolish he must look. Will seized the opportunity to continue.
'And if you continue like this, and run yourself into the ground, I'm not going to have the nerve to face her.'
Halt considered that statement and slowly nodded his head. He could understand Will's sentiments there.
'No,' he said thoughtfully, 'I shouldn't imagine you would.' Then, to Malcolm's surprise, Halt slowly dismounted.
'Well,' he said mildly, 'perhaps I should rest up for a day or so. I wouldn't want to overdo things.' He looked around, saw a small grove of trees a few metres away from the track they had been following and nodded towards them. 'I suppose that's as good a place to camp as any.'
Will and Horace exchanged relieved glances. Before Halt could change his mind, they dismounted and began to set up camp. Halt, now that he had given in to their concerns, decided he might as well take advantage of the situation. He found a fallen tree and sat down by it, resting his back against it and letting out a small sigh.
'I'll start getting my strength back straight away,' he told them, a satisfied smile on his face.
Horace shook his head as he and Will he began to gather stones for a fireplace.
'Even when he gives in, he has to have the last word, doesn't he?' he said.
Will smiled in reply. 'Every time.' But he felt a sense of relief that Halt was willing to stop pushing himself to the limit.
Malcolm, on the other hand, was intrigued to learn more about the person whose name could bring Halt to such a state of meek compliance. He sidled up to Will as the young man was unstrapping his camping equipment from Tug's saddle.
'This Lady Pauline,' he began, 'she must be a fearful person. She sounds like a terrible sorceress.' His face was deadpan but Will sensed the underlying amusement and replied in kind.
'She's very slim and beautiful. But she has amazing power. Some time ago, she convinced Halt to have a haircut for their wedding.'
Malcolm, who had noticed Halt's decidedly slapdash hair styling, raised his eyebrows.
'A sorceress indeed.' Forty-four There were still some hours of daylight left for travel. So after a quick meal, Will and Horace remounted and pushed on after the Outsiders.
Sensing that in the days to come he would have a need for concealment, Horace was now eager to experiment with the camouflage cloak that Halt had given him. This became a source of some annoyance for Will as they followed the trail through the tree-covered dales. From time to time, when they were passing small clumps of trees or bushes, Horace would rein in Kicker beside them, pull his cowl forward, wrap the cloak around himself and attempt to sit without any movement.
'Can you see me now?' he would ask.
Sighing, Will would pretend to search for him, thinking that his friend, the foremost knight in the Kingdom of Araluen, a warrior who would be feared and respected on any battlefield, was behaving like an overgrown child with a new toy.
'I can just make you out,' he would say through gritted teeth. At which Horace would ride a few metres further away and repeat his 'freezing in place' exercise.
'How about now?' he would ask expectantly. Knowing that if he didn't provide the answer Horace wanted to hear they would go through this procedure another half dozen times, Will would nod his head slowly, as if in wonder.
'Amazing,' he would say. 'If I didn't know you were there…' He paused, looking for a way to end that statement, and finished, rather lamely, 'I wouldn't know you were there.'
Which, in itself was true, although if Horace had analysed the statement in any depth, he might have realised that Will had effectively said nothing. But it seemed to satisfy him for the time being.
Shortly before nightfall, Will was intently studying the tracks left by the Outsiders. Even though he felt relatively safe following them, it didn't hurt to keep a careful watch for any sign of an ambush. And with the failing light, he had to concentrate a little harder. He had dismounted to look more closely at several signs when he was interrupted by yet another questioning call from Horace.
'Will?'
Without turning towards him, Will replied, through slightly gritted teeth, 'Yes, Horace?'
'Can you see me now?'
'No. I can't see you at all, Horace,' Will said, continuing to check on a line of footprints that led away from the trail, through the grass and behind a leafy bush. A few seconds' examination showed that the diversion and subsequent concealment had been for personal hygiene reasons, rather than any sinister intent.
'You're not looking.'
The voice was insistent. At the previous year's harvest festival on Seacliff Island, Will had watched a small child swinging enthusiastically on a wood and rope swing, set up in the play area, all the while shouting imperiously to her father, 'Daddy! Look at me! Look at me!'
He was reminded of that now as he turned to see Horace and Kicker, standing relatively motionless in front of a large, leafy bush.
'Horace,' he said wearily, 'you're sitting on top of a great big brown battlehorse. It's nearly two metres high and three metres long and it weighs a quarter of a tonne. Of course I can see you.'
Horace looked crestfallen. He glanced down at the massive form of Kicker, motionless beneath him. It was difficult for a battlehorse to remain inconspicuous, he realised.