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.
John FlanaganAlways expect trouble in the desert. Then you usually won't meet it.
John FlanaganAs he poured carefully, Arrow's head turned toward the sound. The horse made a low grumbling noise in his throat.
"Hold your horses," he said. The he laughed. It seemed absurd to say tat to a horse.
The battle, if you could call it that, lasted no more than a few seconds.
Halt?" he said diffidently. He heard a deep sigh from the short, slightly built man riding beside him. Mentally he kicked himself.
I thought you must be coming down with some illness for a moment there," Halt said straight faced. "It must be two or three minutes since you've asked a question." Commited now, Horace continued.
One of those girls," he began, and immediately felt the Ranger's eyes on him. "She was wearing a very short skirt."
There was the slightest pause.
Yes?" Halt prompted, not sure where this conversation was leading. Horace shrugged uncomfortably. The memory of the girl, and her shapely legs, was causing his cheeks to burn with embarrassment again.
Well," he said uncertainly, "I just wondered if that was normal over, that's all." Halt considered the serious young face beside him. He cleared his throat several times.
I believe that sometimes Gallican girls take jobs as couriers.
he said.
Couriers. They carry messages from one person to another. Or from one buisness to another, in towns and cities." Halt checked to see if Horace seemed to believe him so far. There seemed no reason to think otherwise, so he added: "Urgent messages."
Urgent messages," Horace replied, still not seeing the connection. But he seemed inclined to believe what Halt was saying, so the older man continued.
And I suppose for a really urgent message, one would have to run."
Now he saw a glimmer of understanding in the boy's eyes. Horace nodded several times as he made the connection.
So, the short skirts...they'd be to help them run more easily?" he suggested. Halt nodded in his turn.
It would be more sensible for of dress than long skirts, if you wanted to do a lot of runnig." He shot a quick look at Horace to see if his gentle teasing was not being turned back on himself-to see if, in fact, the boy realized Halt was talking nosense and was simply leading him on. Horace's face, however, was open and believing.
I suppose so," Horace replied finally, then added in a softer voice, "They certainly look a lot better that way too.
Ow!" said Horace as the Ranger's fingers probed and poked around the bruise.
Did that hurt?" Halt asked, and Horace looked at him with exasperation.
Of course it did," he said sharply. "That's why I said 'ow!
Remember, this thing is small. It's not like the wolfships. It'll ride over the waves, not crash through them. So we're safe as houses."
He wasn't sure about the last two statements, but they seemed logical to him.
Halt snorted derisively. "Battleschool evidently isn't what it used to be," he replied. "It's a fine thing when an old man like me can sleep comfortably in the open while a young boy gets all stiff and rheumatic over it."
Horace shrugged. "Be that as it may," he replied, "I'll still be glad to sleep in a bed tonight."
Actually, Halt felt the same way. But he wasn't going to let Horace no that.
He had lost control over his own body, he realized dully.
John FlanaganSometimes," Halt continued, "we tend to expect a little too much of Ranger horses. After all, they are only human.
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