He shook his head. He didn't know. He couldn't tell when he had woken fully. He walked to the horses. They definitely seemed alarmed. But then, they would. After all, he had just leapt to his feet unexpectedly, waving his saxe knife around like a lunatic.

Remember no one expects you to be Halt. He's a legend, after all. Haven't you heard? He's eight feet tall and kills bears with his bare hands.

Sit down, Will. There’s a good fellow,” he said. “Yes, sir,” replied Will, and Halt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s never called me sir,” he said. “Probably trying to get on my good side,” Crowley replied. Halt nodded savagely. “Probably.

It was safe to assume that the rider would be carrying a weapon of some kind. After all, there was no point in wearing half armor and going weaponless.

He rose, offering his hand to Evanlyn to assist her. Even though she was lithe and athletic as a cat, she took it, enjoying the contact. She saw Horace's slight frown as she did so and smiled to herself. A girl can never have too many admirers, she thought. Will seemed unperturbed by the fact that she retained hold of Selethen's hand a little longer than politeness dictated. But then, Ranger's were trained to look imperturbable. He was probably seething with jealousy, she thought.

Best way then is to be waiting for them to bring Halt and the others out of that prison,” he said, almost to himself. “There’s only one reason I can think of that they might do that,” Umar said. “That’s if they are going to execute them.” Will lookd at him for several seconds before speaking. “Well, that’s a big comfort.

An ordinary archer practices until he gets it right. A ranger practices until he never gets it wrong.