Ranger's Apprentice 12: The Royal Ranger

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Ranger's Apprentice 12: The Royal Ranger Page 6

by John Flanagan


  Gilan nodded. The longbow could shoot much further than seventy metres, of course. But at this range, it would still have the power and hitting force to send an arrow smashing through an enemy’s steel helmet. And if the shooter missed, there would still be time for another shot.

  Not that Rangers often missed – if ever.

  ‘Then let’s see you do it,’ Halt said to Gilan.

  Gilan raised his bow and, with a smooth, automatic action that came from years of practice, brought an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder and laid it on the string. Without seeming to take aim, he drew back and shot.

  They heard the resounding clang as the arrow hit the left-hand helmet, punching through the steel at what would be forehead level. The helmet leapt and spun off the post, transfixed by the arrow, and rolled in the dust of the practice yard.

  ‘Slow,’ said Halt.

  Gilan turned a pained eye on him. ‘I’d like to see you do better,’ he challenged.

  Halt allowed himself a faint smile. ‘Unfortunately, I’ve left my bow in our apartment,’ he said, and Gilan sniffed. Halt glanced at Maddie. ‘So we’ll leave the second target to you, young lady.’

  Maddie slipped the loop at one end of the sling around the middle finger of her right hand, then gripped the plaited end of the other thong between her thumb and forefinger. As she did this, she took a lead shot from the pouch at her belt and fitted it into the leather patch in the middle of the sling. Halt noted with approval that she did so without looking. Her eyes, slightly narrowed, were focused on the helmet at the far end of the practice yard.

  She turned side on, advancing her left leg towards the target, and let the shot dangle behind her body, at the end of the two thongs. She swung the sling in a slow pendulum motion several times, making sure the shot was firmly settled in its pouch. She pointed her left arm and hand towards the target, then whipped her right arm up in an overhand throwing action, her arm moving in a rapid arc about twenty degrees from the vertical and her body following through on the cast. As she reached the point of release, she let go the knotted end from between her thumb and forefinger. The shot flew out of the sling, the power of her throw magnified several times by the extra length and leverage that it added to the action.

  CLANG!

  The second helmet spun crazily on the pole, then came to rest on a drunken angle.

  Gilan nodded, impressed. ‘Not bad.’

  He led the way down the practice yard to examine the result of her throw. There was an enormous dent in the helmet, also at forehead height. Some traces of bright silver metal were sprayed across the steel.

  ‘Didn’t penetrate,’ he said, chewing his lip thoughtfully.

  Halt touched the massive dent in the helmet. ‘No. But would you care to have your head inside that helmet when this happened?’

  ‘It definitely wouldn’t do the wearer a lot of good,’ Gilan conceded. He rubbed his finger on the splash of silver metal. ‘What are you using as ammunition?’ he asked. Maddie took another projectile from the pouch at her belt and handed it to him. Gilan was momentarily surprised at the weight.

  ‘Lead shot,’ she said.

  ‘That seems to do the trick.’ He held out his hand and she passed him the sling. He examined it.

  ‘So simple,’ he said. ‘And so deadly.’ He handed it back. ‘You use a different technique to your mother. I seem to recall that she spun it round and round, horizontally?’ He demonstrated, waving his right hand above his head in a flat circle.

  Maddie shrugged disparagingly. ‘Not a good technique,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how she ever hit anything. It’s so hard to judge when you’re spinning it horizontally.’

  ‘Oh, she hit plenty of things,’ Halt told her. ‘But she had to practise for hours to get any sort of accuracy.’

  ‘This is more efficient,’ Maddie said. ‘And besides, if you stand up whirling the sling around your head two or three times, you’re making a target of yourself.’

  ‘Good point,’ Halt conceded. ‘How many shots can you get away in a minute?’

  Maddie pushed out her bottom lip uncertainly. ‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘I’ve never timed myself.’

  ‘Then let’s see, shall we?’ Halt told her. He stopped and picked up the helmet Gilan had shot, pulling the arrow loose and returning it to the Ranger Commandant. Then he replaced the helmet on its post and gestured for Maddie to return to the shooting line.

  ‘All right. Alternate between the two and we’ll see how fast you are,’ he told her. ‘But remember, fast is no good if you aren’t accurate. If you’ve got a big, nasty Iberian pirate coming at you with a cutlass, it’s no good missing him five times in rapid succession. Better to hit him once, slowly.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Point taken.’ She set her feet, reached into the ammunition pouch and loaded a shot into the sling. Once again, she let it swing slowly back and forth for a few seconds.

  ‘Begin!’ Halt called. Gilan’s lips moved as he began silently counting off the seconds.

  She let fly with the shot and, before it struck the target, she was loading another into the sling. This time, she didn’t bother with those short preliminary swings but brought her arm up and over almost immediately. As she released, they heard the CLANG of her first shot hitting home. Then she was reloading and snapping her arm up and over once more, aiming at the first target again.

  CLANG! CLANG!. . . CLANG! CLANG!

  ‘Stop shooting!’ Halt called as Gilan threw up his hand. She had managed to get six shots away in the minute he had counted to himself, although the fourth projectile had missed its target.

  ‘Five out of six,’ he commented thoughtfully. ‘Not bad at all.’

  Maddie turned and confronted the two Rangers, her feet set apart, her hands on her hips.

  ‘Care to tell me what this is all about?’ she challenged, looking from one to the other. As Halt opened his mouth to reply, she waved a hand to stop him.

  ‘And don’t tell me some fairy story about Gilan assessing the sling as a new weapon. If you were merely interested in the sling, why would you care how fast I can shoot?’

  Gilan and Halt exchanged a quick look. It wasn’t wasted on Maddie. But neither said anything.

  ‘It’s pretty obvious that you’re testing me, not the weapon. The question is, why?’

  ‘Maybe that’s something your parents should discuss with you,’ Halt said finally.

  Maddie sighed deeply. ‘Mum and Dad? All they’re interested in is keeping me cooped up. You know I’m confined to quarters for another week, don’t you?’

  A smile touched the corners of Halt’s mouth. ‘I’d heard some rumour to that effect. And of course, there’s no good reason why they’ve done that, is there?’

  Maddie rolled her eyes and sighed resignedly. ‘Oh, all right. Maybe I did sneak out and go hunting once or twice . . .’

  Halt raised an eyebrow and she amended the statement.

  ‘Five or six times then. And maybe I was just a little cheeky when they talked to me about it.’

  The eyebrow, which had just returned to its normal position, went up again.

  ‘All right, maybe I was a little more than that,’ she admitted.

  ‘They’re only doing what they think is best for you, Maddie,’ Halt told her gently. She dropped her eyes and scuffed her boot in the sand of the practice yard.

  ‘I kno-ow,’ she said unhappily. ‘But do they have to treat me like a precious princess all the time?’

  ‘Well, you are a princess – and you are precious to them,’ Halt said. ‘And to all of us, as a matter of fact.’

  He liked Maddie. Over the years, they had formed a close bond. Gilan was aware of this. That’s why he had decided to stay out of this discussion and leave it to Halt.

  In spite of herself, Maddie smiled faintly. ‘You always manage to tie me up in knots.’

  Halt took her hand. ‘All I’m saying is that they care about you. They don’t mean to be so over-protective, but it�
��s hard for them to let go of the reins. They know it too. But believe me, they are trying, and they’ve had an idea.’

  ‘Which you won’t tell me about?’

  ‘No. It’s not up to me to do that. You should hear it from them.’

  Maddie took a deep breath. ‘Then let’s go back to the keep and they can tell me,’ she said. ‘Assuming I passed whatever test you just set me?’

  Halt looked at Gilan. ‘I think she passed, don’t you?’

  Gilan smiled at the young princess. ‘Oh yes. I think so.’

  MADDIE STOOD, NERVOUSLY facing Cassandra and Horace. Halt and Gilan had left her when they reached the door to the royal apartment.

  ‘This is between you and your parents,’ Halt told her. ‘We’ll talk to you afterwards.’

  Now she stood in silence, waiting for them to say something. Usually, she reflected gloomily, they were all too ready to talk – listing her long array of crimes. But now they seemed reluctant to begin. An uncertain look passed between them, as if each one was waiting for the other to start. The tension was getting too much for her to bear. She decided to take the bull by the horns. If it was going to be bad news – and she assumed it was – best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

  ‘Halt said you had something to tell me,’ she said.

  There was another of those quick glances between them, then her father cleared his throat.

  ‘Ah . . . ah-hum . . . well, your mother and I want to talk to you. About your future.’

  Maddie’s heart sank into her boots. If it was going to be an official talk about her future, she knew what it would entail. More restrictions. More rules. Less freedom. There would be long dissertations about her duty as the second in line to the throne after her mother. There would be instructions as to what she could and couldn’t do. And there would be more of the latter than the former – by far. Her future was not a subject she wanted to discuss with her parents. But it was obvious she had no choice. She waited and now Cassandra spoke.

  ‘Maddie, we can’t have you running wild, doing as you choose and taking risks the way you have been doing.’ Maddie’s mouth set in a thin line. She realised that she’d finally pushed her parents too far and now they wouldn’t back off. It was too late to make the sort of abject – and totally false – apology that had got her out of trouble in the past. She’d gone to that well too often, and now their patience was at an end.

  ‘You need order and discipline in your life. You need a sense of purpose.’ That was her father.

  Her shoulders dropped in despair. Order, discipline and purpose, she thought. Could it get any worse than this?

  She thought frantically. Was there nothing she could do to stave this off? Was there no subterfuge she could attempt? She had to try.

  ‘Mum, Dad, I know I’ve been behaving terribly and I can see how I’ve upset you. But I –’

  Her mother stopped her with an impatient gesture.

  ‘It’s too late for that, Maddie. We’ve given you one chance after another and you’ve continued to do as you please and flout our authority. Well, our patience is finally at an end. Our minds are made up.’

  And that was that, Maddie thought. She knew her mother well enough to know that Cassandra had a will of iron and would not be deterred from a path once she had chosen it. Maddie took a deep breath and waited for the worst.

  ‘We’ve decided,’ Horace said, ‘to send you to Will as an apprentice.’

  Maddie’s heart leapt. She kept her eyes cast down, not wanting them to see the sudden light of pleasure that she knew would be all too obvious. Waiting a few seconds until she had herself under control, she looked up at them, suddenly fearful that she had mistaken what Horace had said.

  ‘Will?’ she said tentatively. ‘You mean Uncle Will?’

  Will was her godfather. He’d been her sponsor at her naming day and had sworn to act in place of her parents if ever that became necessary. She loved Will. When she was a child, she had often visited him at Redmont Fief, staying in his warm little cabin and going on hunting and camping trips into the forest with him. Will was fun. Will had a mischievous sense of humour that matched her own.

  Of course, she thought, he’d been fairly serious since Alyss’s death. She had seen him once or twice since then and he’d been grim and humourless. But that was only to be expected. He’d get over that soon enough. She realised her mother was replying to the question she had asked.

  ‘Yes. Will. Your godfather. We’re going to ask him to take you on as an apprentice and train you as a Ranger.’

  ‘But . . . I’m a girl,’ Maddie said uncertainly.

  Her mother regarded her dryly. ‘Sometimes I’ve wondered if you were aware of that,’ she said.

  Maddie waved the sarcasm aside. ‘I mean . . . there are no girl Rangers. There never have been . . . have there?’ She frowned, trying to think if she’d ever heard of such a thing. Then she shook her head. She was sure there never had been a girl Ranger before.

  ‘You’ll be the first,’ her father confirmed.

  ‘And I’ll be living with Uncle Will? At Redmont?’ she said. They both nodded, and she couldn’t help the huge smile spreading across her face.

  Castle Redmont was far less stuffy and formal than Araluen. Baron Arald and his wife, Sandra, were genial hosts and they’d always treated her with affection. Not only that, she thought, she would outrank everyone at Redmont – even Baron Arald. There would be nobody there who could tell her how to behave or what to do. This was wonderful news!

  ‘I’d go easy on the Uncle Will if I were you,’ Horace said in a warning tone. ‘You’ll be his apprentice, you know.’

  ‘Yes. Yes,’ she said excitedly, her mind racing. She could see a future of hunting parties and dances and picnics at Castle Redmont, with her at the centre of things, ordering people to do her wishes, rather than being ordered about by her parents.

  Of course, she’d have to be careful that she didn’t overdo it. If word got back to them that she was enjoying herself too much, they were liable to cancel the whole idea.

  ‘Life as an apprentice won’t be easy,’ her mother said, eyeing her carefully.

  Maddie rapidly composed her features so that she looked suitably chastened. ‘I know. But I’ll do my best.’

  Inwardly, she was exultant. Will loved her. He doted on her. She could twist him around her little finger. She had always been able to. Why should things be different now?

  ‘So . . . you’re willing to take this on?’ Cassandra said, and Maddie lowered her gaze, nodding submissively.

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said. ‘I want you to be proud of me.’

  Gilan and Halt rode up to the little cabin in the trees below Castle Redmont. As they approached the cabin, they could see a curl of wood smoke from the chimney. Tug, in his stable behind the cabin, neighed a greeting to Blaze and Abelard. They responded.

  ‘Well, at least he’s home,’ Gilan said.

  As he spoke, the door to the cabin opened and Will stepped out onto the small verandah. He nodded to his two old friends.

  ‘Halt. Gilan,’ he said.

  Halt’s heart sank a little at Will’s unemotional tone. Previously, their arrival at the cabin would have been an occasion for happy greetings, jokes and cheerful insults. Now Will simply leaned against a verandah post and watched them as they dismounted.

  Halt stepped towards the two steps leading up to the verandah, then paused.

  ‘May we come in?’ he said pointedly. Will’s offhanded manner deserved some form of reproach.

  ‘Of course.’ Will stood aside and motioned for them to enter the cabin.

  Halt took off his cloak and looked around the familiar space. He frowned slightly. There were unwashed dishes on the kitchen bench and two of the chairs were pulled out from the plain pine table, sitting at random angles. The fireplace was full of dead ashes and needed a good cleanout. Will’s cloak was tossed carelessly over the back of one of the armchairs that flanked the fireplace
. Looking through the open door into Will’s bedroom, formerly his own, Halt could see that the bed was unmade.

  Will noticed the direction of his gaze and moved to close the bedroom door.

  ‘Haven’t got round to cleaning up today,’ he mumbled.

  Halt raised an eyebrow. ‘Or yesterday, apparently.’ At least, he thought, his former apprentice had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

  ‘Sit down,’ Will said, turning towards the small kitchen alcove. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

  Halt and Gilan exchanged a glance as they sat in the armchairs by the fire. Gilan shook his head sadly. Obviously, Halt thought, their minds were running along similar lines.

  Will adjusted the draught on the pot belly stove in the kitchen then opened the firebox door and tossed in a few small sticks to get the flames going properly. He shook the kettle. There was a vague splashing sound.

  ‘I’ll get some water,’ he said and headed for the door. The pump was in the yard outside. Again his friends exchanged a look. Normal routine would be to fetch fresh water first thing in the morning.

  ‘He just doesn’t seem to care about anything,’ Gilan said once Will was outside.

  Halt nodded, his brows coming together in a frown. ‘Then it’s up to us to shake him out of it.’

  The door opened and Will returned with the full kettle. He set it on the hotplate, then busied himself getting cups, coffee and the coffee pot ready.

  ‘I know why you’re here,’ he said.

  Halt shrugged. ‘Maybe you don’t,’ he replied.

  ‘You’re going to tell me to snap out of it and pull myself together,’ Will said. ‘Well, I’m sorry the place is a mess. I’m sorry I’m a mess.’ Now that he mentioned the fact, Halt noticed that his clothes were crumpled and stained and his hair and beard were long and uncut. ‘But I don’t care about all that. All I care about is seeing Jory Ruhl on the end of a noose.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Gilan said. ‘But the Corps needs you.’

  ‘The Corps may just have to do without me until I’m ready,’ Will said petulantly. ‘I have more important matters to attend to.’

 

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