“Tug looked nervously at his master.Horses aren't supposed to fly, he seemed to be saying.”

“Which leaves us to the question, what is he up to?" Evanlyn said.Will shrugged. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he said, and urged Tug forward to take up the point position once more.They found out the following evening.”

“Shokaku is a crane of some kind.''For lifting things?' Will asked.'For flying. A crane is a large bird,' she corrected him...'Seems like a logical thing for a crane to do,' Halt mused. 'I suppose you wouldn't expect it to mean 'a hiking crane' or 'a waddling crane.”

“As 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.”

“Looks like he's lost a guinea and found a farthing," Horace said, then added, unnecessarily, "Will, I mean."Halt turned in his saddle to regard the younger man and raised an eyebrow."I may be almost senile in your eyes, Horace, but there's no need to explain the blindly obvious to me. I'd hardly have thought you were referring to Tug.”

“The the uncertainty was dispelled and the melancholy lifted as he saw a familiar stocky figure moving near one of the tents. "Halt!" he cried out gladly, and a slight pressure with his knees set Tug galloping through the deserted Gathering site. The dog, caught by surprise, barked once, then shot in pursuit like an arrow from a bow. The grim-faced Ranger straightened from the fire at the sound of his former student's voice. He stood, hands on hips and a frown on his face as Will and Tug careered toward him. But inside, there was a lightening of his heart that he never failed to feel when in Will's company. Not for the first time, the realization hit Halt that Will was no longer a mere boy. No one wore the Silver Oakleaf if he hadn't proven himself to be worthy. Despite himself, he felt a surge of pride.”

“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.”