Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1)

by C. J. R. Isely

  Ross let out a low whistle from across the hallway. “Excellent thought, Ranger.”

  “Excellent thought? He broke a buckle and that’s an idea?” Sir Don asked, his voice sharp.

  “Have a better way to pick a lock?” the Ranger asked coolly, moving to the bars. “Now everyone shut up and listen for guards.”

  Will held his breath and felt sure the others were doing the same. The only sound was the faint clinking of metal while the Ranger hunched beside the door, hands between the bars. An occasional whispered swear word left his mouth before Will heard another sound. A click.

  The door creaked open, deafening in the darkness, and Will, the King, and the Ranger froze, listening. After a moment, the Ranger waved an arm for them to follow him into the corridor. He had already started on the next lock when Will and the King made it out.

  The King grabbed one of the lit torches from the wall. “There’s not much down here for weapons, unfortunately. So just stick beside me, Will.”

  Will nodded, drawing closer to his King, but still watching the Ranger. The man was moving swiftly, as though picking locks was second nature. How had he learned that? It wasn’t anything similar to what they were taught at the castle. This was a thieves’ trait, not that of a knight or a warrior of Alamore. He remembered the Ranger insisting on not being called Sir, not wanting any association with the knights.

  The door to the second cell creaked open and Ross shouldered his way through, hefting the second torch off the wall and into his hands. The last two torches were taken up by the Ranger and Sir Don while Rockwood and Miller made sure that the squires were together.

  “Now how do we get out from here?” Rockwood asked, glancing up and down the corridor. “The stairs are that way,” he pointed toward the lighter end of the passageway, where it curved from sight.

  Will looked the opposite direction. Even the dungeons mirrored the curve of the tower above. They were in a circle.

  “We go this way,” The Ranger said and started toward the darker curve of the hallway.

  “He’s lost his mind, you know that, right?” Rockwood said, grinning at Sir Miller.

  The King nodded the direction that the Ranger was already disappearing down. “Let’s go.”

  No one argued. Will’s boots drug and occasionally tripped him as he forced every piece of focus into staying upright. Colin and Rowan flanked him, both battered, though steadier on their feet. The hall was narrow, lined with more cells, as they circled slowly away from the stairwell. The idea of the tower overhead made Will’s already uneasy stomach even worse, the lack of air seeming sweltering in comparison to the cold of their cells.

  He glanced at Colin, noticing sweat beading down his friend’s face, over his bruised cheekbone, then looked at Rowan, who’s hair was dark and damp. It wasn’t his imagination. It was getting hot.

  The Ranger, in the lead, held up his hand as they reached a heavy door, turning to face the group. “Miller, you and the King stay here. Rockwood, Ross, Don, get ready to fight.”

  Ross’s knuckles whitened on the torch in his grip. “Born for it, Ranger.”

  The Ranger nodded as the King passed his torch to Rockwood. “When we give the all-clear, get in here fast and be ready to bar the door.”

  Without any further explanation, the Ranger threw the door open and rushed forward. Light poured into the narrow hallway, illuminating the group as Ross, Rockwood and Sir Don dove in after him. A cry of surprise from the other side turned into swearing. Will was pushed backwards, against the hallway wall by one of Miller’s arms as they tried to stay out of the way of Sir Rockwood, who was being forced backwards by a man waving what seemed to be an unlit log of firewood. Miller sprang into action, throwing his full weight into the attacker’s stomach as Rockwood brought the torch butt against the man’s bald head. He fell with a gasp of pain and Miller punched him again.

  “Can never be too sure someone is out cold,” Miller said to the squires, gasping as he pulled himself to his feet and Rockwood launched himself back into the room with a bark of mad laughter.

  “If someone gets that close to my knight again,” Rowan snarled, “I will tear them apart.”

  “Brave words but pretty dumb idea considering you’re weaponless and a child,” The Ranger stood in the doorway again. Rowan threw the hooded man a defiant glower, which he ignored. “Come on, we’ve taken care of things in here.”

  Will had one hand on the wall for support as he walked through the door and stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open. The room was sweltering. Large fires were blazing along the wall, throwing off angry red light.

  Sir Ross was leaning against a door at the far side of the room, teeth bared and gritted, as Don carried armloads of firewood from neat stacks along the walls and pushed them against another door. Will could hear the muffled thumps of people on the other side.

  “Colin, Haru, give Don a hand,” Ross barked and Colin and Haru jumped forward in obedience.

  “What’s the plan from here?” Sir Miller asked, shutting the door behind them and drawing the bolt across.

  “From here, we get out,” The Ranger replied calmly.

  Will looked around. Apart from the door that Ross was barring and the one they had entered through; he saw no other route. “How do we do that?”

  “Lumber chute,” Novin said quietly. Will turned to the squire and saw his eyes on a hatch above the dwindling pile of firewood.

  “Finally, we get an intelligent squire,” the Ranger commented.

  Sir Don chuckled, pressing his shoulder against the door to relieve Ross. “That he is.”

  Will stared at the hatch, his thoughts painfully sluggish. The ceiling where the hatch was mounted was slanted, but, even so, it had to be a steep chute. “Where does that come out?” he asked, turning to Novin.

  “No doubt a storage shed for the wood. They can’t throw even a full day’s worth down here. This is the main heating for the entire tower,” Novin said. He turned to the Ranger. “How do we get up there?”

  “Squires first, as you’ll need lifted up. Knights last, as someone needs to be able to hold the door. We locked all of the workers in the storage closet. Unfortunately, two were conscious,” said the Ranger, moving under the hatch. “Colin, come here.”

  Colin dropped the log he was carrying, darting to the Ranger’s side. “Yes, Sir.”

  The Ranger let out a low growl before shaking his head. “I need you to go first. I’ll lift you. See what is around there. If there is danger, drop down and we will reconsider. If there’s rope, toss it down to help the rest of us out.”

  Colin nodded somberly and the Ranger knelt, locking his fingers together. The squire stepped into his grasp and he stood, slowly, as Colin reached for the clasp on the hatch. Letting it fall open, the squire pulled himself inside and vanished.

  “I swear, Ranger,” Ross growled, his eyes locked on the hatch. “If something happens to him, I’ll murder you.”

  “If something happens to him, I’d rather you murder me than the bastards here,” The Ranger snapped.

  Time seemed to drag by as Will and the others stared at the opening above. After what seemed like days, they heard a light thud and a bucket dropped through the ceiling, tied to a rope. The Ranger, barely stepping out of the way in time, turned to Ross, expectantly.

  “Very well, Ranger,” Ross said, “looks like someone else gets the exhausting job of murdering you. Rowan, you next.”

  Soon Rowan was out of sight and the Ranger turned to Will. “How are you feeling?”

  Will tried to straighten himself. “I can climb,” He forced himself not to sway as the Ranger stared down at him in silence.

  “Very well. Will next and then I want Novin up.”

  Will stepped into the Ranger’s grip as he had watched his best friends do moments before and fought to ignore the throbbing in his temple as he gripped the rope and pulled himself into the chute. At once, the world went black. His back pressed against a cold, hard, surface wh
ile his eyes struggled to make out even the rope he held. Putting his feet forward, he pushed himself up the passage while pulling on the rope. He could feel blood dripping down the side of his face once more, the exertion causing his wound to seep.

  Reaching a hand up to climb higher, Will felt two hands grip his arm. “I’ve got you, Will, nearly here,” Rowan’s voice hissed through the dark.

  Rowan pulled as Will kicked off the side of the wall and inhaled the dark and freezing air, collapsing onto the ground at Rowan’s feet. His eyes were straining, after the light from below, to make out anything. He shivered, a breeze to his left making him turn. A shaft of grey moonlight was breaking between the boards of the wall. They had gotten out of the tower.

  “Where’s Colin?” Will whispered.

  “He’s trying to get to the horses. We’re not far from them. Those temporary stalls are right outside. I guess this is at one end of them and the courtyard at the other.”

  “It’s freezing!” Novin’s voice joined them, gasping.

  Will shivered, the sweat from the room below turning cold on his neck, and moved closer to the hole he could now make out in the ground. Around them were piles of wood, neatly stacked to slide into the chute. “Novin, move your foot, you’re blocking the way,” Haru’s voice grunted a moment later.

  After a few minutes, the King, Sir Miller, Sir Rockwood, and Sir Don had joined them but Will felt anxious, glancing toward the door. Where was Colin?

  “Ranger, get up the rope now,” Will heard the order from the bottom of the passage. “I’m not moving until you’ve gotten up.”

  The snarling swears of the Ranger were followed by him pulling himself onto the shed floor. He turned to the King and growled. “Have I mentioned I hate your knights?”

  “A few times, but come on. We have to get ready to go. When Ross gets away from that door, he won’t have much time,” The King said. “Will, Rowan, Novin, find Colin and those horses. Get on and get ready to ride.”

  Rowan pulled Will to his feet. “You going to be okay riding?” he asked.

  Will grinned. “Like I have a choice.”

  “Valid point,” Rowan, Novin and Will slipped outside, where the snow seemed to illuminate the tower from the ground up.

  They moved as quickly as they could without drawing attention, crouched between stalls. When they reached the Alamore banner, Will glanced into the nearest stall. “Colin?” he whispered. The horses stood, looking at them curiously.

  “You lot scared me,” Colin whispered, lifting his head above the door of the King’s horse’s stall. “I’ve got most of them saddled. We just need bridles and to get out of here.”

  “Well Ross is the last one so let’s go,” Novin said, sliding into the next stall and throwing a saddle onto Miller’s horse.

  In a few minutes that seemed never-ending, Will was pulling himself onto Visra’s back, gripping the reins of Miller’s horse and the Ranger’s mare in one hand. The four squires rode, hunched forward in their saddles, toward the shed. They had nearly reached it when they saw the Ranger step out.

  “Hurry up!” he said, his voice shattering the silence. “We need horses now!”

  The King strode out behind the Ranger, Haru, and Miller on either side like defensive dogs. Sir Don and Rockwood grabbed their horses and pulled themselves into the saddles as the sound of falling logs made Will look back at the shed.

  Sir Ross ran out, grabbing his paint horse from Colin and swinging himself into the saddle. “What are you waiting for? Ride!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Visra launched forward underneath Will and he clutched the saddle, trying to keep himself from falling into the spinning that was taking over his head again. The Ranger and the King rode at the front, with Sir Don and Sir Ross bringing up the rear of the group.

  They rode down the alleyway of the makeshift stalls, thundering into the courtyard just as guards rushed from the tower, yelling at the top of their voices. Will saw the Ranger knock two men off their feet with his mare’s weight, using the horse as a weapon.

  “What is going on?” the furious yell was nearly drowned out by the shouts of guards but Will could still hear King Kolt, howling in rage as he realized what was happening. “Don’t let them get to the gates! Someone, close the gates! If they get away, I will personally execute you in their places!”

  Visra lurched back and forth, dancing as he had been trained through the oncoming men. Will kicked out, not bothering to keep his feet in the stirrups as he used his boot to knock aside a man reaching for Visra’s reins. They were nearly to the gate but he could still hear the screams of fury from Kolt.

  “Will, get out of here, now!” Sir Ross ordered, bringing his paint horse beside him. “Ride for Lonnac! Have Colin lead. You have to get out of here right-” he grunted in pain and Will gasped as an arrow sliced along the knight’s shoulder. “Go!”

  Will pulled the reins, forcing Visra away from the fray and to the gates where Novin, Rowan, Haru, and Colin were waiting, their horses anxiously moving back and forth. Rockwood and Sir Miller were struggling to keep the guards from reaching the gates to close them while the Ranger and the King fought to escape.

  Sir Don and Sir Ross dove forward, pushing their horses into guards left and right. Somehow both knights had gained weapons, Sir Don a spear and Sir Ross a sword that he was dealing unmerciful blows with.

  “What the Thornten are you waiting for!” the Ranger snarled, reaching the squires. “He said go and he meant it!”

  “What about weapons? We need to help!” Colin argued. Will could see him watching Ross’s horse as the sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm.

  “Our weapons are locked in that castle and Ross is fool enough to think that he can get his own sword back,” the King snapped. “That’s on him. I’m not risking anyone else on his actions. Ride! That’s an order!”

  None of the squires dared to disobey the King but Will found himself looking over his shoulder as they pushed their horses into a canter. The lanky shape of Rockwood’s horse, followed by Miller’s stout grey and finally, Sir Don’s white-blazed black horse appeared. One of the gates had been closed and Will felt that, for the second time that night, he would be sick.

  “Damn knights,” the Ranger to Will’s left, snarled and pulled his mare to a halt, spinning her round. “Will, stay right here. That’s my order. Stay right here and wait for me,” Will reined in Visra.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Saving that moron,” the Ranger snarled and brought his heels into the mare’s sides. She sprang forward, toward the tower once more. As the Ranger drew even with Sir Don’s retreat, Will saw him reach out a hand and Sir Don tossed the spear toward him. A moment later, the hooded figure had vanished into the swarm of guards. Sir Don and Sir Rockwood slowed as they reached Will.

  “He’s insane,” Sir Rockwood said, his voice shaking with fury. “He’s bloody insane, risking his life for a damn sword.”

  “They both are insane,” said Don.

  Will remained silent, listening to the distant yells beyond the wall and the heavy breathing of the horses below them. They had to escape. They had to escape…

  A paint horse, rider-less, its head high, galloped from the gate. As Ross’s horse neared them, Will could see the stains of scarlet along the animal’s sides and legs and its white ringed eyes.

  “Grab that horse, Rockwood!” Don barked.

  Rockwood moved his horse forward, whispering softly, as the paint horse slowed. “Easy old boy, come on now.”

  Another shape darted from the still open side of the gates, just as the second one closed. Will heard screams on the opposite side of the twisted metal walls as the black mare galloped toward them. A form fell from her back into the snow and she halted. Will could see a second rider still on her.

  “Will! I need the horse!” the Ranger’s yell sent a flood of relief through the squire.

  “Never you mind his order, I got this,” Rockwood said, looking at Will. “
Don’t get involved in crazy antics like these two.”

  With that he cantered toward them, the paint horse at his side. Will saw them exchange words but could hear nothing. In a moment, Sir Ross was pulling himself from the snow and into his saddle again. He clutched a sword but, as he passed Will, Will could see his eyes were blazing. “At least the King gets his own blade back,” the knight growled in response to Will’s questioning look. He let out a snort of disgust, thrusting the sword into the sheath on his saddle. “I couldn’t get to mine; someone had taken it out of the room they were stored in.”

  Rockwood and Don followed Ross, all of them urging their horses into hard gallops to catch up with the King, Sir Miller, and the squires ahead. Will waited, diligent, for the Ranger.

  The Ranger stopped his mare at Will’s side. “Sure, you want to be a knight? Because I’m pretty certain you just got to see how truly stupid, they can be.”