The Royal Ranger: A New Beginning

by John Flanagan

  ‘All right?’ she asked and he shook his mane several times. She reached under his belly to retrieve the hanging girth strap, then, pushing the saddle flap and stirrup up to expose the buckle end, she passed the girth through the buckle and heaved it tight. She hauled it in one more notch so that the saddle was firmly seated on the horse’s back. She paused, watching Bumper to see if he was going to release any pent-up breath – she’d seen Tug’s little trick when Will was saddling him over the past few weeks. But Bumper had no such guile in him. She patted his neck approvingly and he looked back at her again, moving his head up and down. For a moment, she could have sworn he was trying to speak to her. She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

  She pulled the side flap and stirrup back down into position and looked at the two men who were watching her. There was something . . . expectant in the way they were looking. She glanced from one to another. She had the sensation that they knew something she didn’t.

  ‘Before you mount up –’ Young Bob began, but Will quickly cut across him.

  ‘Is there anything you want to ask? Anything you need to know?’

  A look passed between the two of them. She cocked her head to one side and smiled. The smile was just a trifle supercilious.

  ‘I have ridden a horse before, you know,’ she said.

  Will nodded. ‘So you have.’

  ‘And he looks pretty calm and placid.’

  Will pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Calm is accurate. I’m not sure that placid is the correct choice of word.’

  She smiled indulgently, looking at Bumper, standing rock steady, without the usual fidgeting that horses often went on with when they had just been saddled.

  ‘Oh, I think it’s pretty accurate,’ she said confidently.

  Will made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. ‘Then, if you’re sure, go right ahead.’

  She looked at Young Bob and he shrugged. She took the reins in her left hand and turned the stirrup so she could put her left foot into it. As she did so, Bumper turned again to study her. There was something expectant in his expression as well, she thought. Then she shook her head. Horses don’t have expressions, she told herself.

  She bounced once on her right toes. She noted that Bumper stood perfectly still for her. Often, a horse would try to sidle away as a rider tried to mount. She nodded at him.

  ‘Good boy,’ she said and swung herself easily up and into the saddle.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Bumper seemed to spring off the ground from all four feet, arching his back and throwing her off balance. Then he came down with a teeth-jarring crash and promptly put his head down, exploding his rump up into the air.

  Maddie was a good rider but she’d never felt a horse buck like this before. In addition, she hadn’t yet gained a firm seat and she felt herself sliding off to the right.

  Bumper exploded away again in another of those spring-heeled leaps. But this time he went left, out from under her. She realised she would never regain her seat and kicked her left foot free of the stirrup. It was all too obvious that she was going to fall. Bumper started to rear back on his hind legs. She leant forward to compensate and realised, too late, that he was foxing.

  His head went down again and his rear quarters shot into the air like a giant equine catapult.

  She felt herself leave the saddle, soaring up and forward over the horse. She twisted in the air, hoping to land somehow on her feet. And she nearly made it. But she was too far off balance to manage it completely and she crashed into the dust of the saddling yard, the force of her fall driving the breath from her lungs.

  Winded and groaning, she lay in the dust, desperately trying to drag air back into her temporarily empty lungs. She opened her eyes and realised that Bumper had moved to look down on her, a quizzical expression on his face. He snorted softly, blowing warm air onto her face. It was almost as if he were checking to see if she was all right.

  She rolled onto her side and came up on one knee, looking around the saddling yard. Young Bob and Will were watching her with knowing expressions. Sundancer was looking quite alarmed. Tug seemed to be smiling quietly.

  Maddie stood, a little shakily, and glared at them.

  ‘You knew that was going to happen,’ she said accusingly.

  Will considered the statement for a second or so. Then nodded.

  ‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact,’ he said. He waited until Maddie had beaten some of the dust from her clothes, then went on. ‘It’s just you’ve been a little . . . condescending about our horses,’ he said. ‘I thought it might be useful if you saw they’re not all solid and stolid and plodding. That they have a certain amount of fire in them.’

  She rubbed her back painfully. ‘You’ve got that right,’ she said. She glared at Bumper, who approached her now and bumped her gently with his forehead. There was no sign of wickedness or contrary behaviour in his eyes. They were big and dark and liquid and friendly.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked him.

  ‘’Cause he’s been trained that way,’ Young Bob told her. She looked at him in disbelief. ‘You’ve trained him to buck me off whenever I mount him?’ She couldn’t see much future in having a horse who behaved that way.

  But Young Bob was shaking his head. ‘He’s trained to buck off anyone who hasn’t used his permission phrase.’

  She frowned at that and Will explained. ‘All our horses have a code phrase,’ he said. ‘If you use it when you first meet a Ranger horse, he’ll allow you to mount him and ride him with no problems. If you don’t, he’ll buck like Gorlog himself until he throws you off. Which, in your case, didn’t take long.’

  ‘Gorlog?’ she asked. ‘Who’s Gorlog?’

  ‘A very useful Skandian demigod,’ he told her. But she was still absorbing the rest of what he’d said.

  ‘So Ranger horses have some secret code? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

  ‘You’ve never heard of anyone stealing a Ranger horse, either.’ Young Bob cackled in delight.

  ‘Which has come in useful several times over my life,’ Will told her.

  Again, Maddie frowned, not quite believing them. It all sounded too far-fetched. ‘So I have to say this . . . code word . . . whenever I mount up?’

  Young Bob shook his head. ‘Just the first time. After that, he’ll know you.’

  ‘So, what do we say?’ She addressed the question to Will but he pointed to Young Bob.

  ‘It’s different for each horse,’ Will said. ‘You might as well know that for Tug it’s “Do you mind?”. There may come a time when you have to ride him, so it’s worthwhile your knowing it.’

  Maddie looked to Young Bob now. She still wasn’t sure if she believed all this. She wondered if she was letting herself in for another bone-shuddering dumping from Bumper’s back.

  ‘So?’ she said.

  Young Bob frowned thoughtfully for a second or two, then replied, ‘With Bumper, you say “Don’t break me”.’

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Don’t break me?’ she said.

  Both Will and Young Bob replied in a triumphant chorus. ‘Don’t say it to us! Say it to the horse!’

  ‘You whisper it in his ear just before you mount,’ Will added. She recalled now that when she had gone to mount Bumper before, he had turned to her as if expecting something. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, they were telling her the truth.

  She approached the little piebald again, crossing the reins and setting them on the saddle pommel. She stood for a second or two and, sure enough, Bumper turned his head to her. She leaned up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.

  ‘Don’t break me.’

  Bumper nodded his head, as if satisfied. Before he could change his mind, she put her left foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.

  She tensed, waiting, fearing the worst. Five seconds passed. Then ten. Bumper was as solid and unmoving as a wooden horse. Gradually, she realised that they had been telling her the truth.

&
nbsp; Some day, she promised herself, she would get them back for this.

  ‘Walk him round,’ Young Bob told her. ‘Get the feel of him.’

  She touched Bumper with her heels and, instantly, he came to life. They walked, then trotted, around the saddling yard and she marvelled at the lightness and springiness of his step. She had thought the little Ranger horses appeared stolid and heavy. But once she was astride him, she realised how false this impression had been.

  Bumper stepped lightly and eagerly. He responded to the lightest touch on the reins, the slightest pressure of her knees.

  ‘Press with your left knee,’ Will called and she did so – although now that she was aware of Bumper’s response level, she applied only the lightest pressure.

  Instantly, he danced sideways. She pressed with her right knee and he danced several paces the other way. Then she used both knees and he continued his straight-ahead progress.

  What she had seen – or thought she had seen – and what she was experiencing were two completely different matters. Young Bob moved past her as she circled the yard and unhitched the gate, clearing the way to the open fields beyond.

  ‘Take him for a run,’ he said.

  She urged the little horse through the gate and touched her heels to his side again, loosening the tension on the reins.

  The response was startling. Bumper accelerated like an arrow from a bow, so quickly that she was nearly left behind. But he sensed her momentary loss of balance and slowed, allowing her to regain her seat. Then he was off again, neck stretched out, legs reaching in great, bounding strides.

  The speed was incredible. She had never ridden so fast in her life.

  You didn’t expect this, did you?

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ she replied, shocked to find that she was talking to her horse – and, even more surprising, her horse had seemed to talk to her.

  From the paddock, Will and Young Bob watched the horse and rider receding further and further into the distance.

  ‘You’ve done well, Bob,’ Will told him.

  Young Bob was shading his eyes against the bright sun, watching Maddie and Bumper get acquainted.

  ‘She’s a good rider. Got a balanced seat and nice soft hands. You could see that from her Arridan’s mouth.’

  They fell silent for some minutes, watching the horse and rider, hearing the faint drumming of Bumper’s hooves on the grass. Then, in a mock casual tone that didn’t fool Young Bob for a moment, Will asked:

  ‘I don’t suppose Bellerophon is around, is he?’

  Young Bob cackled with delight.

  ‘Wondered how long it’d take you to ask! He’s in the stable.’

  MADDIE SPENT ANOTHER two hours getting acquainted with her new horse. Bob took her through some of the basic commands that Ranger horses were trained to respond to – how to change gait on the rider’s signal, how to press harder into the ground on each pace so that a tracker following the Ranger might not realise that his quarry had dismounted and the horse was now riderless. Plus there were basic movements that could come in useful in combat – sidestepping and backing up, rearing onto the hind legs, pirouetting in place, lashing out at an enemy with the front hooves and kicking back with both rear legs.

  All Ranger horses came ready trained in these basic manoeuvres – and a lot more besides. Maddie delighted in Bumper’s instant response to the hand, knee and foot signals that Young Bob taught her. It was almost as if all she had to do was think about the movement she wanted and Bumper responded before the thought was fully formed.

  She continued to be amazed at his lightness of step. It was a constant surprise to see how quickly he moved, how rapidly he changed direction, and how he could accelerate from a standing start to a full gallop almost instantaneously.

  Sundancer was a fine horse, there was no doubt about that. But Bumper seemed to be an extension of her own personality. He knew what she wanted of him, and did it, quickly and smoothly.

  Maddie and Bumper ranged across the fields and through the woods, accompanied by Young Bob on a retired Ranger horse. Eventually, Bob decreed that she had learned enough for one morning and they rode back, cantering in that steady, loping stride until they were half a kilometre away. Then, at Bob’s signal, Maddie gave Bumper his head and streaked away from him, her cloak and long hair streaming out in the wind behind her.

  Going to have to cut that hair, she thought, then gave herself over to the sheer exhilaration of Bumper’s speed and power and surefootedness.

  She reined in as they drew closer to the cabin. She was surprised to see Tug standing in the saddling paddock, while Will rode bareback on an old grey horse, moving at a gentle canter around the field adjoining the saddling paddock. He saw her coming and waved, heading his mount towards her. Bumper whinnied a greeting and the old grey responded. As they drew closer, she could see that the hairs around his muzzle were white. But there was something vaguely familiar about him, she thought.

  ‘Who’s that?’ she asked, as she reined in beside Will. He gave a faint smile and leaned forward to run his fingers through the horse’s shaggy mane, tugging it affectionately.

  ‘An old friend,’ he said. ‘Named Bellerophon. I like to see him whenever I’m out this way. But it’s been a while. Haven’t seen him since . . .’

  The words faded and so did his smile. Instinctively, Maddie knew that he had been about to say since Alyss died. She covered up the awkward lull in the conversation.

  ‘He looks somehow . . . familiar,’ she said.

  Will nodded and pointed to where Tug was standing in the saddling yard.

  ‘He looks like Tug,’ he said, and she nodded, seeing the resemblance now that he mentioned it. This horse was older, and his grey hair was white around the muzzle. But his whole conformation was the same. And he stood the same way, holding his head at a slight angle while he listened to them, just as she’d noticed Tug doing.

  ‘He was my first Ranger horse,’ Will continued. ‘In fact, he was my first horse. I didn’t have a wealthy mum and dad – and I didn’t have a smart Arridan to ride on.’

  Will tried the gibe as an experiment, to see if the reference to her parents, and the associated fact that they had disowned her, would produce an angry reaction. He was pleased to see that she smiled in return.

  Interesting, he thought. Perhaps she meant what she said to Young Bob. Perhaps she is starting to enjoy all this.

  ‘So how long ago was that?’ Maddie asked.

  Will shook his head. ‘Longer than I care to remember. But I recall I was just as excited about him as you seem to be about young Bumper here.’

  Bumper snorted and shook his mane at the mention of his name. Maddie leaned forward and patted his neck.

  ‘He really is remarkable,’ she said. ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘I’m sure I don’t,’ Will replied gravely.

  Just then Young Bob cantered slowly up to join them. His face split in that now familiar smile as he eyed Will on Bellerophon’s back.

  ‘How does he feel?’ he asked.

  Will looked down at the horse, leaning a little to see the traces of the cruel scar that marked his right shoulder.

  ‘Like I’ve never been away,’ he admitted.

  Young Bob chuckled. He’d grown up in the service of the Rangers and their horses and he always enjoyed seeing them reunited. ‘He’s still got quite a turn of speed on him, hasn’t he?’

  Will shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to push him too hard,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want him straining anything or pulling any muscles.’

  ‘Aaah, not that one,’ the horse trainer said. ‘He’d run at the drop of a hat, he would. And he’d show some of these younger ones his heels while he was at it.’

  At which statement, both Bumper and Tug raised their heads and snorted and stamped a protest. Bellerophon looked from one to the other. Maddie could have sworn that he sniggered, if a horse could ever be said to do so.

  They brushed and watered the horses, then had lunch with
Young Bob. Will had brought fresh, crusty bread and sharp cheese, and several thick slices of ham. And Bob had crisp fresh lettuces and radishes from his small vegetable plot. Bob and Will drank coffee, sweetening it with large spoonfuls of honey. Maddie, as was her custom, drank milk.

  Young Bob shook his head as he watched her.

  ‘Don’t know as I’ve heard of a Ranger who didn’t drink coffee,’ he said doubtfully.

  Will shrugged. He was almost resigned to Maddie’s dislike of the traditional Ranger brew by now.

  ‘New times, Bob,’ he said. ‘I suppose we have to move with them.’

  ‘Not me. Tradition is tradition, I say. Enough change that you’ve got a female apprentice, without her not drinking coffee. It’s too much change, too quick.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Maddie, ‘do you have to discuss me and my drinking habits while I’m sitting right here?’

  The two men regarded her for several seconds. Then they looked at each other and replied in unison.

  ‘Yes.’

  Maddie rolled her eyes and reached for the tumbler of milk. She took a deep draught of the fresh, cool liquid.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ she told Will.

  ‘Nor do I want to,’ he replied.

  When they finished the meal, Will and Maddie cleared the table and washed the platters and knives they had been using. While they were doing so, Young Bob excused himself and went outside. He’d gone silent towards the end of the meal and Maddie looked curiously at Will.

  ‘He’s saying goodbye to Bumper,’ he told her. ‘Bob gets very attached to his horses. Sometimes I believe that he thinks they’re only on loan to us. In a way, I suppose they are,’ he added.

  She moved to the window and glanced out. The little bowlegged man was standing by Bumper, his face almost touching the horse’s. She could see his lips moving but she couldn’t make out the words. Instinctively, she began to move towards the door, but Will stopped her.