He moved toward her now, a smile of utter relief breaking out across his features, holding out his hands to her as she stood, wordless, staring at him as if he were some kind of a ghost.
“Evanlyn!” he said. “Thank God you’re safe!”
And, saying it, he wondered why her eyes had filled, and why her shoulders were shaking as tear after tear spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks.
After all, he couldn’t really see that there was anything to cry about.
EPILOGUE
HALT AND HORACE RODE CAREFULLY DOWN THE WINDING PATH that led from Château Montsombre. Neither of them spoke, but both felt the same intense satisfaction. They were on their way again. The worst of winter was over and, by the time they reached the border, the passes into Skandia would be open.
Horace glanced back once at the grim building where they had been trapped for so many weeks. Then he shaded his eyes to look more carefully.
“Halt,” he said, “look at that.”
Halt eased Abelard to a stop and swiveled around. There was a thin banner of gray smoke rising from the castle keep, and as they watched, it thickened and turned black. Dimly, they could hear the shouts of Philemon’s men as they ran to fight the fire.
“Looks to me,” said Halt judiciously, “as if some careless person left a torch burning in a pile of oily rags in the basement storeroom.”
Horace grinned at him. “You can tell all that just by looking, can you?”
Halt nodded, keeping a deadpan expression.
“We Rangers are gifted with uncanny powers of perception,” he replied. “And I think Gallica will be better off without that particular castle, don’t you?”
Only the warlord had actually lived in the keep. The soldiers and domestic staff lived in other parts of the building and they would have plenty of time to stop the fire from spreading that far. But the keep, the central tower that had been Deparnieux’s headquarters, was doomed. And that was as it should be. Montsombre had been the site of too much cruelty and horror over the years, and Halt had no intention of leaving it unscathed, so that Philemon could continue the ways of his old master.
“Of course, the stone walls won’t burn,” said Horace, with a tinge of disappointment.
“No,” Halt agreed. “But the timber floors and their support beams will. And all the ceilings and stairways will burn and collapse. And the heat will damage the walls as well. Shouldn’t be surprised if some of them just collapse.”
“Good,” said Horace, and there was a world of satisfaction in the single word.
Together, they turned their backs on the memory of Deparnieux. They urged their horses forward and the little cavalcade moved off, Tug following close behind the two riders.
“Let’s go and find Will,” said Halt.
The Icebound Land Page 24
