The day started normally enough. The three travellers rose early. It was going to be a long day in the saddle, so they ate a substantial breakfast, then broke camp and rode west through the grassland along the forest’s fringe. After several kilometres, Halt spotted a narrow path between the trees, swung Abelard’s head south and led the way into the forest.
Will and Halt were familiar with the sepulchral feeling of the grey, lifeless shapes massed around them. Horace, on the other hand, was a little overawed by his surroundings. His eyes darted continuously from side to side, trying to pierce the blur of dead trunks.
‘How did you manage to see anyone in this mess?’ he asked. The two Rangers grinned at him.
‘It wasn’t easy,’ Will said. The monotone colouring of the trees tended to destroy any sense of perspective, as he had noted the day before.
‘Gilan did well to get the first one,’ Halt said absently.
Will looked at him with a slight frown. ‘Gilan?’
Halt looked at him curiously. ‘What about him?’ he asked, his face blank.
‘You said, “Gilan did well to get the first one”,’ Horace explained. Now it was Halt’s turn to frown.
‘No I didn’t,’ he said. Then he added, ‘Did I?’
The expressions on the faces of his two companions told him that he had said Gilan. He shook his head and gave a short laugh.
‘I meant Will,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Will. You know I’m always confusing the two of you.’
‘No matter,’ said Will. But as they rode on, he felt a worm of worry in his mind. He had never before known Halt to confuse him with Gilan. He glanced quickly at Horace but the tall warrior seemed satisfied with the explanation, so he let it pass.
There was little opportunity to discuss it as they traversed the forest. Halt spread them out in single file at five-metre intervals, just in case the surviving Genovesan had decided to set another trap, and had discovered the path they were taking. This time, feeling sympathy for Horace, Will acted as the rearguard, regularly checking the trail behind them for any sign of pursuit.
All three of them heaved silent sighs of relief when they finally emerged from the drowned forest. Ahead of them lay grasslands, and, once they topped the low ridge on the far side of the forest, the tree-covered banks of the river wound before them.
‘I’m glad to be out of those trees,’ Horace said.
Halt smiled at him. ‘Yes. I couldn’t help thinking those damn Genovesans might have something cooked up for us.’
Again, Will frowned. ‘Those Genovesans? How many do you think there are?’
Halt looked at him, momentarily confused.
‘Two,’ he said. Then he shook his head. ‘No. One, of course. You got one of them, didn’t you?’
‘We both got him,’ Will reminded him and Halt looked blank for a moment, then nodded, as if remembering.
‘Of course.’ He paused, frowned again and asked, ‘Did I say two?’
‘Yes,’ Will said. Halt gave a short bark of laughter and shook his head, as if to clear it.
‘Must be getting absentminded,’ he said cheerfully.
Now it was Will’s turn to frown. He was beginning to sense that something was very wrong. Halt wasn’t usually so affable. And he definitely wasn’t absentminded. He spoke tentatively now, not wanting to offend his teacher.
‘Halt? Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Of course I am,’ Halt said, with a trace of his usual asperity. ‘Now let’s find that ford, shall we?’

Halt's Peril, Chapter 24