"Yeah but it was tiring to watch." Will replied.
"Well it was more tiring to do" Horace said.
"Will you two stop it seriously I am trying to read." Halt grumbled.
"And since when did you take joy in reading Halt?" Gilan asked.
"I don't, that's why I want to finish this chapter as soon as possible." He retorted. He looked down at the book and continued reading.
"That's right," Gilan said cheerfully. "Even though we're on a mission, it's upto me to keep up the instruction for you two."
"Only Gilan could say something like this cheerfully." Horace said while shaking his head.
"That's me for you." Gilan smiled while pretending to be overeager.
Now it was Horace's turn to be puzzled."For me?" he asked. "Why should I be taught any Ranger skills?"
"Look I didn't realise Gilan was the one who studied with MacNeil alright." Horace asked in a defensive manner.
"We didn't say anything Horace." Alyss said while smiling.
"Well I could tell you were going to." He replied.
Gilan picked up his sword and scabbard from where they lay beside his saddle. He withdrew the slender, shining blade from its plain leather receptacle. There was a faint hiss as it came free and the blade seemed to dance in the shifting firelight.
Jenny shuddered inwardly at the thought of seeing the sword. She was the sort of person that only used violence when absolutely necessary and no other time. Only the Rangers in the room noticed her intake of breath but made no comment on it.
"Not Ranger skills, my boy. Combat skills. Heaven knows, we'll need them as sharp as possible before too long. There's a war coming, you know." He regarded the heavyset boy before him with a critical eye. "Now, let's see what you know about that toothpick you're wearing."
"Toothpick? Really? You think Horace's broad sword is like a toothpick?" Arald was stunned.
"With all due respect sir I was being sarcastic." Gilan said, not wanting to embarrass the Baron.
"Oh yes of course, I knew that." He said trying to cover his mistake. Halt continued reading.
"Oh, right!" said Horace, sounding a little more pleased about this turn of events. He never minded a little sword practice and he knew it wasn't a Ranger's skill.
"It might not be every Ranger's skill but it is Gilan's" Lady Pauline commented.
"Yup I learned that the hard way." Horace sighed.
"Really what happened did you embarrass yourself?" Cassandra asked curious. Horace looked side long at her and thought that she seemed too pleased with the idea of his embarrassment but said nothing.
"No he tried to kill me I suppose." Gilan answered. There was a gasp from the majority of the Araluan's in the room.
"Oh yeah put it like that why don't you? I didn't try to kill him he asked me to." Horace went on defensive mode again.
He drew his own sword confidently and stood before Gilan, point politely lowered to the ground. Gilan stuck his own sword point-first into the soft earth, and held out his hand for Horace's.
"May I see that, please?" he asked. Horace nodded and handed it to Gilan hilt-first. Gilan hefted it, tossed it lightly, then swung it experimentally a few times.
"See this, Will? This is what you look for in a sword."
"Huh I still don't get what you were trying to show me Gil, I prefer my saxe knife." Will said shaking his head.
"Oh dear what a waste of my expert teaching then. You really need to pay more attention young Will." Gilan replied.
Will looked at the sword, unimpressed. It looked plain to him. The blade was slightly blued steel, simple and straight. The hilt was leather wrapped around the steel tang and the crosspiece was a chunky piece of brass. He shrugged.
The knights all looked at Will and shook their heads, ashamed.
"That is a very fine sword you can tell from the description." Duncan said trying to explain to Will.
"Sorry sir but I will never understand how a plain sword can hold so much attraction."
"Let's just continue with the story." Cassandra said quickly as she saw her dad about to speak.
"It doesn't look special," he said apologetically, not wanting to hurt Horace's feelings.
"It's not how they look that counts," said Gilan. "It's how they feel. This one, for example. It's well balanced, so you can swing it all day without getting overtired, and the blade is light but strong. I've seen blades twice this thick snapped in half by a good blow from a cudgel. Fancy ones too," he added,with a smile, "with engravings and inlays and jewels."
"Now I remember." Will sighed contently. Gilan shook his head.
"How on earth could you forget a conversation with me?" He asked with a hurt face.
"It happens all the time Gil, you're not that memorable after all." Gilan threw a pillow at Will and declared that after this book was finished there would be a massive pillow fight.
"This is the man I love." Jenny sighed to herself while hiding a smile.
"Sir Rodney says jewels in the hilt are just unnecessary weight," said Horace. Gilan nodded agreement.
"What's more, they tend to encourage people to attack you and rob you," he said. Then, all business again, he returned Horace's sword and took up his own.
"Very well, Horace, we've seen that the sword is good quality. Let's see about its owner."
"Well the owner is much better than the sword everyone knows that." Halt commented.
"Wow Halt actually said something nice for once." Cassandra joked.
"I'm not heartless you know." Halt said injured. No one except Pauline and Will properly knew how kind he could be if he chose. Horace had blushed at Halt's comment as like all of the younger people in the room he sought Halt's approval first.
Horace hesitated, not sure what Gilan intended.
"Sir?" he said awkwardly.
Gilan gestured to himself with his left hand. "Attack me," he said cheerfully. "Have a swing. Take a whack. Lop my head off."
Everyone burst out laughing at Gilan's care free manner of talking about his death. Jenny looked at him and pouted.
"Why do you seem to have a death wish?" She was more than upset and if she found herself in a world without Gilan she didn't know what she would do.
"Don't worry sweet heart I don't have a death wish I love you too much to have one."
"Good because if you did then I would kill you first."
"But if you killed me then you would miss me."
"Oh, shut up" Jenny grumbled. Everyone smiled at her and Gilan and thought about what a cute couple they made.
Still Horace stood uncertainly. Gilan's sword wasn't in the guard position. He held it negligently in his right hand, the point downward. Horace made a helpless gesture.
"What, were you afraid of chopping his head off?" Halt asked innocently.
"No, not really I just didn't want him to die that's all." Horace said.
"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have died Horace, he was trained by MacNeil at the time." Arald said to Horace who was shaking his head.
"Yes but I didn't know that at the time sir."
"Come on, Horace," Gilan said."Let's not wait all night. Let's see what you can do."
Horace put his own sword point-first into the earth.
"But you see, sir, I'm a trained warrior," he said. Gilan thought about this and nodded.
"After one year of apprenticeship and you already think of yourself as a trained warrior." Duncan jibed. Horace smiled back and his cheeks went aflame at his stupidity.
"True," he said. "But you've been training for less than a year. I shouldn't think you'll chop too much off me."
Horace looked to Will for support. Will could only shrug. He assumed that Gilan knew what he was doing. But he hadn't known him long, and he'd never seen him so much as draw his sword, let alone practice with it. Gilan shook his head in mock despair.
"Come on, Horace," he said. "I do have a vague idea what this is all about."
Reluctantly, Horace swung a half hearted blow at Gilan. Obviously, he was worried that, if he should penetrate the Ranger's guard, he was not sufficiently experienced to pull the blow and avoid injuring him. Gilan didn't even raise his sword to protect himself. Instead, he swayed easily to one side and Horace's blade passed harmlessly clear of him.
"You know your lack of belief in my ability really was insulting." Gilan said.
"Forgive me for trying to be careful Gilan really you can't blame me for that." Horace pointed out.
"And he didn't know you were a swordsman." Alyss helped him. She thought he was being attacked by everyone from everywhere and needed a little help. He smiled at her in gratitude.
"Come on!" he said. "Do it as if you mean it!"
Horace took a deep breath and swung a full-blooded roundhouse stroke at Gilan. It was like poetry Will thought. Like dancing. Like the movement of running water over smooth rocks.
"Well I didn't know you were one for poetic language Will." Arald looked at the young man admiringly. In truth the baron had tried to use poetic language for a while though he never managed to use it properly and in the end Sandra, his lovely wife forced him to stop otherwise she threatened she would kick him out of their chamber.
"Yes how come you never told me you could use language like that?" Alyss asked shocked. This was the first time she had seen this type of nature in Will and she wondered if there were any other secrets in the book he was hiding from her.
"Well honey, you never told me you liked that type of language. If you did then I would have used it everyday." He said trying to flatter her and succeeding.
Gilan's sword, seemingly propelled only by his fingers and wrist, swung in a flashing arc to intercept Horace's blow. There was a ring of steel and Horace stopped, surprised. The parry had jarred his hand through to the elbow. Gilan raised his eyebrows at him.
"That's better," he said. "Try again."
"How is that even possible? You should have died by then." Cassandra was on the verge of shock.
"Well I did have a bit of practise before asking him to try and kill me." Gilan smiled.
"No do you know what? I honestly think you were trying to kill yourself." Jenny added.
"No darling I told you it's part of the training." Gilan sighed in relief as Jenny huffed and blew hair from her face.
And Horace did. Backhands, overhead cuts, round arm swings.
Each time, Gilan's sword flicked into position to block the stroke with a resounding clash. As they continued, Horace swung harder and faster. Sweat broke out on his forehead and soon his shirt was soaked. Now he had no thought of trying not to hurt Gilan. He cut and slashed freely, trying to break through that impenetrable defence.
"Finally you were hitting well." Gilan cried.
"Excuse me when do I not hit well?." Horace asked hurt.
"Well at the beginning you didn't." He replied. Cassandra scrunched up her nose in a look of disgust when she heard how his shirt was soaked in sweat.
Finally, as Horace's breath was coming in ragged gasps, Gilan changed from the blocking movement that had been so effective against Horace's strongest blows. His sword clashed against Horace's, then whipped around in a small, circular motion so that his blade was on top.Then, with a slithering clash, he ran his blade down Horace's, forcing the apprentice's sword point down to the ground. As the point touched the damp earth, Gilan swiftly put one booted foot on it to hold it there.
"Right, that'll do," he said calmly.
"Wow you don't even look flustered or bothered" Baron Arald exclaimed.
"Well he probably learnt that from me." Halt said unconcerned. Though inside he was extremely impressed with Gilan's skill and technique. He knew one tiny slip up and he could have been dead.
Yet his eyes were riveted on Horace's, making sure the boy knew that the practice session was over. Sometimes, Gilan knew, in the heat of the moment, the losing swordsman could try for just one more cut— at a time when his opponent had assumed the fight was over. And then, all too often, it was.
"Trust me I know what you mean. That was how I got my broken nose." Horace said in sympathy.
"Well it doesn't detract from your looks you know." Cassandra flirted. She smiled at him, and he did back but the next few words he said took the smile off her face.
"That's what most of the women said at Castle Araluan too."
He saw now that Horace was aware. He stepped back lightly from him, moving quickly out of the reach of the sword.
"Not bad," said Gilan approvingly. Horace, mortified, let his sword drop to the turf.
"Not bad?" he exclaimed."It was terrible! I never once looked like…" He hesitated. Somehow, it didn't seem polite to admit that for the last three or four minutes, he'd been trying to hack Gilan's head from his shoulders.
"You are right there young Horace, it wouldn't be very diplomatic to say that." Pauline said.
"Since when were warriors diplomatic." Halt scoffed.
"I'm just helping Horace so that he doesn't offend people dear, not everyone is as rough mannered as you." She said while everyone snickered at how she was in control. "Continue reading dear."
He finally managed to compromise by saying: "I never once managed to break through your guard."
"Well," Gilan said modestly, "I have done this sort of thing before, you know."
"Yes," panted Horace. "But you're a Ranger. Everyone knows Rangers don't use swords."
"Apparently, this one does," said Will, grinning. Horace, to his credit, smiled wearily in return.
"You can say that again." He turned respectfully to Gilan. "May I ask where you learned your swordsmanship, sir? I've never seen anything like it."
Gilan shook his head in mock reproof. "There you go again with the'sir,'" he said. Then, in answer: "My Sword master was an old man. A northerner named MacNeil."
"MacNeil!" Horace whispered in awe. "You don't mean The MacNeil? MacNeil of Bannock?"
"How many MacNeils do you know Horace?" Duncan asked.
"Only one but I was trying to hide my shock sir."
"Well you didn't do a good job of it." Jenny laughed.
Gilan nodded. "He's the one," he replied. "You've heard of him then?"
"What kind of question is that?" Arald asked. "Every knight knows his name!"
"I know I was teasing Horace sir."
Horace nodded reverently. "Who hasn't heard of MacNeil?"
And at that stage, Will, tired of not knowing what was going on, decided to speak up.
"Well, I haven't, for one," he said. "But I'll make tea if anyone chooses to tell me about him."
"How could you have not heard of MacNeil?" Arald turned to confront Will.
"More importantly how could you make tea?" Halt asked with anger as the dominating emotion on his face. "Out of all the training you've done and all the coffees you've made how could you insult me like this?" Halt demanded. Will really had no answer. He was hiding behind Alyss' hair again as if somehow it would save him from Halt's wrath.
"Come on dear it's not that bad." Pauline said, wanting to comfort Will and hiding a laugh at his scared expression.
"It is. The years spent making coffees. It's Ranger tradition; I honestly don't know how you could have done that." Halt said upset.
"Sorry Halt." Will said meekly.
"You should be." He gave him a stern look then concluded that this chapter was finished.
Well there you go guys, I've finally completed this chapter! Please review and tell me what you think of it, I've had fun writing this. I'll try not to make any promises though because usually writers that do 'reading the books' promise that they'll finish but never do. I don't want to raise your hopes or anything but I'll try and finish it.