“Never take your eyes off them,” Horace said to Gilan, in an admonishing tone. “Didn’t MacNeil ever tell you that?”

“But...what if I mistime it?"Gilan smiled widely. "Well, in that case, I'll probably lop your head off your shoulders."Horace and Gilan”

“That taught us how to block a sword with two knives. But what if an ax man's coming at me?" Gilan looked suspicious. "An ax man? I don't recommend trying to block an ax with two knives." But Will wouldn't take no for an answer. "But what if he's charging at me?" Horace walked over. Gilan looked away. "Uh...shoot him." Horace intervened. "Can't, his bowstring's broken." Gilan gritted his teeth. "Run and hide." Will kept on him. "There's a sheer cliff behind me." Horace caught on. "There's a sheer cliff behind him, and his bowstring's broken. What should he do?" Gilan thought for a moment. "Jump off the cliff, it'll be less messy that way.”

“Gilan hesitated. "I wouldn't advise anyone to face a battleax with just two knives," he said carefully.So what should I do?" Will joined in. Gilan glared from one boy to the other. He had the feeling he was being set up.Shoot him," he said shortly. Will shook his head, grinning.Can't," he said. "My bowstring's broken."Then run and hide," said Gilan, between gritted teeth.But there's a cliff," Horace pointed out. "A sheer drop behind him and an angry axman coming at him."What do I do?" prompted Will.Gilan took a deep breath and lookd them both in the eye, one after the other.Jump off the cliff. It'll be less messy that way.”

“Would you trust him with your life, Halt?" Gilan interrupted, and Halt looked up at him."Yes," he said quietly. Gilan patted his shoulder once more."Then trust him with his own," he said simply.”

“Horace, fit, and athletic and light on his feet, gave their guards the fewest opportunities to beat him, although on one occasion an angry Tualaghi, furious that Horace misunderstood an order to kneel, slashed his dagger across the young man’s face, opening a thin, shallow cut on his right cheek. The wound was superficial but as Evanlyn treated it that evening, Horace shamelessly pretended that it was more painful than it really was. He enjoyed the touch of her ministering hands. Halt and Gilan, bruised and weary, watched as she cleaned the wound and gently pated it dry. Horace did a wonderful job of pretending to bear great pain with stoic bravery. Halt shook his head in disgust.“What faker,” he said to Gilan. The younger Ranger nodded.“Yes. He’s really making a meal of it isn’t he?” He paused, then added more ruefully, “Wish I’d thought of it first.”

“Do you think you could persuade that horse of yours to stay with the other horses for a minute or two?” he said with a mock severity. “Otherwise he’ll wind up believing he’s one of us.”He’s been driving Halt crazy since we found your tracks,” Horace put in. “He must have picked up your scent and known it was you we were following, although Halt didn’t realize it.”At that, Halt raised an eyebrow. “Halt didn’t realize it?” he repeated. “And I suppose you did?”Horace shrugged. “I’m just a warrior,” he replied. “I’m not supposed to be the thinker. I leave that to you Rangers.”