`I take it you're not a shepherd looking for stock?' he the bearded man nodded. said and th

`No. You're right about that.'

`Then you lied to me the other night. Why?' The challenge was gruff and uncompromising. Halt seemed to take no offence at being called a liar. He replied in a calm, reasonable tone.

`We weren't sure what we were walking into,' he said. `These are troubled times, as you may well know.'

`Aye, and they're not helped by people skulking around claiming to be what they're not,' Conal replied with a little heat. He could hear a rustle of movement from behind him. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and relaxed slightly as another dozen members of the guard came shuffling at a half run down the high street. When he was first alerted to the presence of three strangers at the guard post, Conal had sent his son to rouse a platoon of the town guard, telling them to arm themselves and join him. Now they had arrived and he felt a little more in control of the situation. The numbers were comfortably on his side.

Horace sighed to himself. He was a direct sort of person and this verbal sparring was beginning to annoy him. He and his friends were here to help the people of Craikennis, not to bandy words in the street in the middle of the night. Conal heard the slight exclamation and turned to him.

`Something to say, boy?' he demanded.

Halt's eyebrow went up. 'I wouldn't be so free and easy with the word "boy" if I were you,' he said warningly. But Conal ignored him and Horace was already replying.

`Yes. I've got something to say. My friends and I are here to help you. If you keep us standing here much longer while you throw accusations and insults, we'll just ride on and leave you to the bandits.'

He was remarkably self-assured for one so young, Conal thought, his brow puckering at the last word.

Bandits? What bandits would they be?'

`There are eighty of them heading this way. They're planning to attack you tomorrow and wipe your village out. We came to warn you and to offer you our help. But if you prefer, you can go back to bed and we'll just ride on. It's really no skin on our nose.'

Halt glanced sidelong at Horace. The young man's face was flushed with annoyance.

`I think that's "off our nose",' he pointed out. Horace glanced briefly at him.lis 'Whatever. He gets my meaning.'

And Conal did. So far, Craikennis had remained undisturbed. But there had been bandits and outlaws running amok in the south of Clonmel, and the trouble had been gradually spreading north, like a dark stain of spilled ink advancing over a map.

`How do I know you're not with them?' he asked and instantly regretted the question. If they were, they would never admit it and asking had only shown his own indecision. 'Who are you anyway?' he added angrily, trying to cover the mistake.

`We're King's Rangers from Araluen,' Halt told him, indicating himself and Will. 'And this tall, rather aggravated young man beside me is a knight of the Araluen court.'

Conal frowned. He had no idea what Rangers might be. He guessed they must be woodsmen or scouts. But he knew what a knight was and the tall stranger, in spite of his youth, had the look of a warrior about him.

`Your Araluan king has no authority here. King Ferris rules – in a manner of speaking,' Conal told them.

Interesting, Will thought. There had been a hint of distaste in Conal's voice as he spoke of the King. He glanced at Halt to see if his mentor had noted it. But Halt's face was a blank mask.

`Nevertheless, we're all trained fighters and we might be useful to you,' Halt said.

Conal scratched his ear, inspected his fingernails and then replied. 'Exactly. And I'm thinking if there's an attack coming, it might not be the wisest move to let three armed fighting men into the village.'

`Then don't,' Halt said immediately. 'We'll camp in the trees there. If there's no attack tomorrow, we'll go on our way. If there is, you might be glad of a bit of support.'

`And how much use will three men be against eighty?' Conal asked. He did it more to gain time than anything else. He could see no real danger if these three were content to wait outside the village's hastily constructed defensive barricade.

`That depends on the three,' said the third member of the group, the one who had posed as a minstrel a few nights ago.

The bearded one turned to smile at him. 'Well said, Will,' he said quietly. Then, to Conal: 'However much help we can provide, it'll be more than nothing. My main aim is to make sure you have your defences ready, your men armed and warned. The outlaws will be looking to surprise you. If they find you ready and waiting, it might take a little starch out of them.'

Conal considered the point and nodded slowly. 'Aye, that makes sense,' he said. 'I'll have the men stand to at dawn. We do that every day.'

Halt smiled grimly. 'Then do it tomorrow. But the odds are, they won't attack then.' He smiled. 'The enemy will expect you to be ready at dawn. Most places "stand to at dawn", as you put it. My guess is, they'll wait for you to lower your guard when nothing happens. If I were them, I'd hit you at noon, when people are relaxing, tired from the morning's work and looking forward to their midday meal.'

Conal regarded the bearded man. He was small for a warrior, the Hibernian thought. But he carried an air ofconfidence and authority. He suddenly thought that if there were to be a fight, he'd prefer to fight with this man than against him.

`Good advice,' he said. 'I'll make sure everyone stays ready. Where will you be?'

Halt gestured to the forest north of Craikennis. 'We'll bed down inside the trees. Then we'll take a position on that low hill outside the treeline.'

Conal stepped forward and offered his hand to Halt. He was a little awkward, realising that this man had come to warn the village and, so far, had been treated with suspicion and distrust.

`I owe you thanks,' he said.

Halt took his hand. 'Thank me tomorrow, if we're all still here,' he said. Then he and his two companions retrieved their weapons from the grassy verge, mounted their horses and rode away across the fields to the north.

They'd gone a hundred metres or so when Horace urged Kicker alongside Abelard.

`Halt?' he said and the Ranger looked at him. `Something troubling you?'

`Yes. I just realised, we've left all our camping gear at Mountshannon,' Horace said.

Halt let out a deep sigh. 'Yes. I remembered that too -just after I told him we'd camp out in the trees.'

Horace glanced at the sky above them. There were dark clouds scudding across it, blanking out the stars as they passed.

`Do you think it's going to rain tonight?' he said. `Probably,' Halt replied gloomily.

Chapter 27

It did rain during the night, a light shower that fell for about fifteen minutes just after midnight. But the camp site wasn't quite as uncomfortable as Halt and Horace had envisaged. They had overlooked the fact that Will still had his tent and camping equipment with him.

Even though the tents were designed for one man, it was possible to squeeze two people into one. And of course, at any time, one of the group was on watch.

Will had the final shift and, as dawn was slowly spreading over the countryside and birds were waking up in the trees and bushes, he saw Halt crawling out of the low tent.

The older Ranger looked with annoyance at the damp patches on his knees. It was impossible to emerge from a low tent like that on wet ground without getting your trousers wet, he reflected. He stretched and walked to where Will was watching the road, wrapped in his cloak.

`Any sign of them?' he asked.

Will shook his head. 'Not so far,' he said. Then headded, 'I thought you said a dawn attack would be too obvious and they probably wouldn't attack until midday