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Duel at Araluen

Page 27

by John Flanagan


  “She’s fine,” Maddie told him. “Dad too. They send their love.”

  “How did Horace and Gilan make out with that Red Fox nonsense north of Araluen?” he asked.

  Maddie shrugged. “They sorted it out. No big drama.”

  She turned away to lead Tug to the stable, hiding her grin as she did so. After a few paces, she casually called back over her shoulder.

  “There’s a dispatch from Gilan on the table.”

  “I’ll read it while I have coffee.”

  Tug followed her to the stable, where she unsaddled him, brushed him down and rubbed him with an old horse blanket. Then she put him in his stall next to Bumper. The two horses nuzzled each other over the rail that divided their stalls. She filled Tug’s drinking trough and ladled some grain into his feed bin. Bumper looked at her accusingly, and she gave him some extra grain as well. Then she gave each horse an apple from the cask outside the stable door and returned to the cabin.

  Will looked up as she entered. He was sitting, sprawled in his chair, the dispatch open in one hand and his coffee cup in the other. He raised an eyebrow at her and brandished the report.

  “Bored after a week? No big drama?”

  She shrugged diffidently. “Well, I didn’t want to make too big a thing out of it all,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

  He looked back at the dispatch again. “Gilan says you did very well,” he said. “Very well indeed.”

  “Really?” she asked, unable to hide her pleasure. “What does he say, exactly?” She was young enough to like the idea of someone praising her—particularly when that someone was the Commandant of the Ranger Corps.

  “He says you’ve learned not to yell out when someone steps on your hand. That’s good to hear,” he said, glancing earnestly at the dispatch.

  “Is that all?” she asked, her voice rising with her disappointment. “He must say more than that!”

  “I don’t think we want you getting a swollen head,” he said. He folded the dispatch and put it away inside his jerkin. She dropped her gaze, shuffling her feet in embarrassment.

  “No. I suppose not,” she said awkwardly.

  Will decided he’d teased her long enough. “He also says I should be very proud of you.”

  She looked up at him. His face was a mask, and for a long moment, the silence stretched between them. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

  “And are you?” she asked tentatively.

  Will smiled at her. “Oh, very proud indeed.”

  About the Author

  JOHN FLANAGAN grew up in Sydney, Australia, hoping to be an author, and after a successful career in advertising and television, he began writing a series of short stories for his son, Michael, in order to encourage him to read. Those stories would eventually become The Ruins of Gorlan, Book 1 of the Ranger's Apprentice epic. Now with his companion series, Brotherband, the novels of John Flanagan have sold millions of copies and made readers out of kids the world over. Mr. Flanagan lives in the suburb of Mosman, Australia, with his wife. In addition to their son, they have two grown daughters and four grandsons. You can visit John Flanagan at www.WorldofJohnFlanagan.com

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