The Siege of Macindaw

9

Will and Horace rode along the winding path through Grimsdell Wood, following the dog's unwavering lead. Horace shook his head at the impenetrable tangle of trees and foliage around them.

"No wonder Malcolm's been safe in here all these years," he said.

Will smiled. "It's been his best defense," he agreed. "Of course, he has a few other ways to discourage visitors."

"He'd hardly need them. You could lose an army in here, and they'd never find their way out… good grief!"

The last two words were drawn from him as they rounded a bend in the track and he saw the gruesome skull warning sign among the trees. He suspected that Will had intentionally neglected to tell him about it.

"Oh, that's Trevor. Pay him no mind. He's harmless," Will said.

Horace could hear him chuckling quietly to himself as they rode on.

"Hilarious," he muttered to himself.

They came to the clearing in the woods quite abruptly. One moment they were in the semidark tunnel formed by the track among the gloomy old trees. Next, they were in the sunlight, and Malcolm's pleasant little thatched cottage was before them, smoke curling from its chimney.

A table had been set up in the late-afternoon sunshine, and Will could see Malcolm, Xander and, to his surprise, Orman sitting around it. The sallow-faced castle lord appeared to have lost weight. His face, beneath the receding hairline, was even paler than normal and there were dark shadows under his eyes. The eyes themselves, however, were bright and alert.

There were two vacant chairs. Will guessed that Malcolm had delayed lunch until they arrived. In all probability, Will thought, he had been receiving constant updates on their progress.

After introductions all around, Will and Horace sat at the table with the others. The dog took off like an arrow, catching sight of Trobar on the far side of the clearing.

"Go ahead, then," Will said belatedly.

"We waited lunch for you," Malcolm told them.

Will made a disclaiming gesture. "We ate lunch at the inn," he began, but Horace interrupted before he got any further.

"Still, there's no harm in an early supper," he said. He was forever hungry, although his lean, muscular frame showed no evidence of the amount he could eat.

"It's good to see you up and around, my lord," Will told Orman. The castle lord allowed himself a wry grimace.

"Up, perhaps, Will Barton. But I'm definitely a long way from being around."

"We're very pleased with his progress," Malcolm put in.

Will indicated Horace, who had already begun demolishing a bread roll.

"And the good news continues, my lord. With Horace to help us, we'll soon have you back in your castle." Horace reddened slightly at Will's fulsome praise, and Will realized he might be laying it on a little thick, but he was inordinately pleased and relieved to have his old comrade by his side again. He sensed that the others hadn't realized the significance of Horace's identity, so he added, "You might know him better as the Oakleaf Knight."

The name meant nothing to Xander, who scowled and muttered, just loud enough to be heard,"And how much are we paying this one, I wonder?"

Horace reddened further, but said nothing.

Orman shot Xander a warning look. The little man subsided, mumbling. Then a thought struck Orman.

"The Oakleaf Knight?" he said thoughtfully. "Then surely you're the one who was involved in that business with Morgarath some years back? And with the Skandians, as I recall."

Horace shrugged. "A lot of that was exaggerated, my lord."

But now Orman's gaze had turned to Will as realization dawned.

"And I recall that he had a friend who was a Ranger," he said. " That was you, wasn't it? Will Barton, my foot! You're the one they now call Will Treaty?"

It was Will's turn to shrug.

"All of that was exaggerated," he said. He noticed that Malcolm was oblivious to the events that Orman was discussing. Of course, Will thought, he'd been secluded in the forest for years. Xander, however, was looking disconcerted as he realized he had just insulted one of the Kingdom's most capable warriors. Will grinned. Served him right.

Horace coughed gently. He had more important matters on his mind than a surly insult from Orman's attendant.

" There was some mention of food?" he reminded them. Horace always did have a good grasp of priorities.