11.01 Death of a Hero by John Flanagan Read Free Book Online Page B

from home for long periods and the baby would be left alone and uncared for.
    But an idea was forming. Baron Arald had created a Ward at Castle Redmont where the orphans of men and women who died in his service were cared for. It was a bright, cheerful place, staffed by kind, affectionate people, and there were several recent additions to the ranks of children being cared for there. A baby girl called Alyss, and another boy—Horace, his name was.
    Will would know warmth and companionship there. And as he grew, he would be given a choice of different vocations to follow. All in all, it seemed like an ideal solution.
    “Problem is,” Halt told the watchful infant, “we can’t let on that I’ve brought you there. Folk are suspicious of Rangers. If they thought you were associated with me, they might tread warily around you.”
    Rangers had an aura of mystery and uncertainty about them. And that could have drawbacks for the child. People often feared things they didn’t understand, and he didn’t want that fear transferring itself to young Will. Better if his background remained a mystery.
    “Which it is,” Halt mused. “I don’t even know your last name.”
    He considered that. He could ask around the district. But as he had learned, the family was new to the area and people might not know their names. In addition, he would have to reveal his plans for the baby, and he wasn’t sure if what he was planning was exactly legal. Will was the child of two subjects of the local baron and Halt technically had no right to carry him off to another fief.
    But then, in his lifetime, Halt had often ignored what was technically legal. Technicalities didn’t appeal to him. All too often, they simply got in the way of doing the right thing.
    He dipped the cloth in the last of the milk and held it to the baby’s mouth. Will sucked eagerly, his eyes still fixed on the Ranger.
    “Yes, the Ward is the best place for you,” Halt told him. “And it’s best if you’re anonymous. I’ll tell Arald, of course, in confidence. But nobody else will know. Just the two of us. What do you say?”
    To his surprise, the baby emitted a loud burp, then smiled at him. A ghost of a smile touched Halt’s bearded face in reply.
    “I’ll take that as agreement,” he said.
    Four days later, just before the first gray streaks of light heralded the dawn, a dark figure carrying a basket stole across the courtyard of Castle Redmont, to the building that housed the Ward.
    Setting the basket down on the steps outside the door to the Ward, Halt reached in and moved the blanket away from the baby’s face. He placed the note that he had composed into the basket, at the baby’s feet.
    His mother died in childbirth.
    His father died a hero.
    Please care for him. His name is Will.
     
    A tiny hand emerged from the blankets and gripped his forefinger.
    “I’d swear you were shaking hands good-bye,” Halt whispered. Then, gently disengaging himself, he stroked the baby’s forehead.
    “You’ll be fine here, young Will. With the parents you had, I suspect you’ll grow to be quite a person.”
    He glanced around, saw no sign of anyone watching, then reached up and rapped sharply on the Ward door before melting away into the shadows of the courtyard.
    The Ward’s staff was already up and about, and he heard the door open a few minutes later, then the cry of surprise.
    “Why, it’s a baby! Mistress Aggie, come quick! Someone’s left a baby on the doorstep!”
    Wrapped in his cloak, hidden in the shadows of the huge wall, Halt watched as several women came bustling out, crying out in surprise at the sight of the baby. Then they took him inside, closing the door behind them. He felt an unfamiliar prickling sensation in his eyes and a strange sense of loss.
    “Good-bye for now, Will,” he whispered. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
    Halt felt that same prickling sensation once more as he finished the story. He turned away slightly so that Will