Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1)

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Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 17

by C. J. R. Isely


  Will grinned, forcing himself steady in his saddle. “Well, after what you’ve seen of me, wouldn’t you say that’s the right path?”

  The Ranger let out a true laugh and shook his hooded head. “So, the squire has a sense of humor when he realized I’m not the scariest thing alive. Come on. They’ll be pulling themselves together enough to saddle horses soon.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The horses and riders alike were exhausted as they neared the small castle on the edge of Alamore’s land. The King and Colin had ridden ahead to secure hospitality at Lonnac, Colin’s family stronghold.

  Will and the rest of the party reached the gates as they were drawn upwards and an elderly soldier met them, holding a torch aloft. “Master Colin, you’ve grown a fair bit.”

  Colin grinned. “How are you, Derrin?”

  “Too old for this, that I say for sure, for sure,” the man responded and waved his hands to the gatekeeper as the last of the group entered. The gate slid down on silent, well oiled, gears and shuddered into place. “Your cousin is already asleep. This is an odd hour for arriving if yer don’t mind me saying. But all of you look though you’ve been better,” the soldier’s eyes drifted between them. “I think we shall go to the infirmary. Get everyone a bed and checked over by the healer. Give yer horses to the men; they can put them up.”

  “There is a chance that we are being followed,” the King said, swinging from his horse.

  The elderly soldier jumped, as though only now recognizing the royalty before him, and stooped into a low bow. “Your majesty, King Revlan!”

  The King waited, his face exhausted, for the soldier to straighten. “Thank you, soldier Derrin. As I mentioned, we were pursued and they may follow us here. We don’t mean to bring trouble to Lonnac but I will impose our presence until we can get to Alamore. If you would, please send a messenger to the main castle as soon as possible. Send the messenger to me first for the message. Also, we may need to double the watch tonight.”

  The soldier nodded vigorously. “Aye, I mean, yes, yes, of course, yer Majesty.”

  Will sank from his saddle and had to cling to Visra’s mane for support as he watched the others dismount and hand their horses to soldiers. His body was weak from exhaustion and the head injury and his legs ached from the days of riding. As a soldier reached to take the reins of his bay, he tried to straighten and staggered forward.

  “Easy now, Will,” Sir Rockwood said, grabbing him. “Ranger, we need to get him to a cot. I’m sure he’s concussed from that injury and he’s exhausted.”

  Will tried to take another step but felt the knight’s arm grab him and lift him, childlike, into his arms. Torches blurred in Will’s vision as his head lolled back, muscles too weak to support its weight. The warmth of the castle slowly soaked in, the rhythmic movement of Rockwood’s strides making him drift in and out of consciousness until he felt himself lowered onto a cushioned bed.

  There was nothing in the world better than the feeling of warm blankets and a pillow, he decided as he slipped into darkness again.

  ***

  Will woke to sunlight streaming through a high window above his bed. It took a moment to remember where he was or what had happened. Reaching a hand to his head, he could feel heavy bandages over the wound. He looked at his hands. Someone had cleaned the blood away and his fingers, numb with cold the night before, had been slathered in something that soothed the dried and cracking skin.

  “You know,” Rowan said, making Will look up as he approached, “you’re not supposed to let them hit you that hard in the head. Not great for it.”

  Will grinned at his friend who beamed back. Rowan wore a clean green tunic, as well as new boots. Above Rowan’s eye, the line of stitches he had received before they left Alamore had been replaced with a new, neater, line. “Clearly you took a hit too.”

  Rowan’s face reddened and he gently touched the thin line. “Yeah, well, that’s why I passed out actually. You would not believe how bad it hurts to have a healing cut open again. Seriously.”

  “Can’t feel great,” Will glanced around the room. There were curtains blocking what he could only imagine were other cots and a door at either end of the narrow chamber. “Um, Row, where is everyone else?”

  “Downstairs. They’re having breakfast with Colin’s cousin and explaining what’s going on. It’s weird,” Rowan said, looking around the room, “this place belongs to Colin. Like my father’s a Lord and all, but Colin’s family has one of the most prestigious pieces of land in Alamore. Practically a separate country and, meanwhile, Colin isn’t even pompous. We will really have to work on that with him if he’s to take over from that cousin of his.”

  Will pulled himself upright and waited for any feelings of lightheadedness. There were none. He sighed slightly in relief. “So,” he asked, putting his feet on the floor. “Why aren’t you down there? What’s Colin’s cousin like?”

  Rowan shrugged. “I volunteered to see if you were awake enough to eat because the Ranger said you needed to have something in your stomach. I told him you nearly had an arrow in it last night, but he really didn’t see the humor. That man needs to lighten up some time,” He helped Will to his feet.

  Will looked down at his clothing. In the night, someone had taken away his filthy tunic and garments, changing him into a matching tunic outfit as Rowan. Beside the bed, someone had set new dry boots and a fur-lined grey cloak, which he slipped on. “And what’s the cousin like?”

  Rowan rolled his eyes. Then he puffed out his chest and impersonated an exaggeratedly rich tone. “You will find that the castle has had many, much needed, upgrades, Master Colin. Oh, King, how can we please you? We are here to serve you. How can I ensure you have what you need? We are at your disposal.”

  Laughing, Will followed Rowan to the door. “He is supposed to act that way,”

  “Yeah,” Rowan said darkly, “but doesn’t mean he’s not being weird about it all. He’s acting too extreme about it, like some subservient pig. This is Colin’s castle and resources, Carnel’s not doing anything.”

  “Carnel? That’s his name then?” they had stepped out of the room, onto a landing. Below, Will could hear the clatter of silverware and smell warm food. His stomach growled, reminding him that it had not held a meal in more than a day.

  “Carnel the crappy,” Rowan grumbled, starting down the steps.

  They entered the side chamber where breakfast was being served. The King sat at the head of the table while white-clad pages moved around the seated company, offering more food and drinks. The Ranger gestured to the empty seat at his right as Rowan took his own seat again, next to Rockwood.

  “Eat,” the Ranger ordered before turning back to the man seated between him and the King.

  The man had white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a similar strong build to Colin, though in his early twenties. Will had no doubt who he was, from his looks and his characteristics. He was telling King Revlan that he would be happy to provide them the finest horses that Lonnac had to get them back to Alamore. “You need fresh mounts and I can have your horses returned sometime over the next few days. Those animals were exhausted and it won’t do either yourself or them any good to push them further. In fact, I am amazed that all of them were fine through the night and none collapsed after such a ride.”

  The King was smiling politely but Will saw Rockwood and Rowan exchange an eye-roll while Sir Miller covered a laugh in a cough. “Thank you, Carnel, we will consider that. We would never want to ruin our animals.”

  “Of course not! And I’ve had the grooms oil and clean the saddles. Sir Ross, in particular, your saddle, what with the blood. How is your shoulder, Sir?” Carnel asked, looking at Sir Ross who sat directly across, on the King’s other side.

  Will looked at the knight as well, noting the dark shadows of exhaustion and the bandage on his shoulder. His blue eyes seemed haunted as he gave Carnel an empty smile. “The shoulder will heal.”

  “I can’t blame you for g
oing back for your sword. A good sword is a hard tool to come by,” Colin’s cousin said, nodding. “We have an excellent blacksmith who can craft you one, even better, I feel.”

  Ross stood, his hand moving to his shoulder. “On second thought, I am going to have them reset these bandages. They seem a bit tight,” Colin stood automatically, to follow his knight. “No, Colin, you stay and enjoy being home.”

  “Well, hopefully, your knights are enough in one piece to defend you on the ride back to Alamore,” Carnel commented as Ross turned out of sight. “I would be happy to send my men to guard on the journey.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the King replied and smiled. Will could see the man’s eyes were exhausted. “We thank you for your hospitality and we will take you up on the offer of fresh horses. I will have a few words with the stable master regarding bringing ours back. Your messenger should have long since reached Alamore and, no doubt, our own guard will be here shortly. We don’t need to impose any longer than we have.”

  “There is no imposition or inconvenience, your Majesty. The house of Lonnac lives to serve the throne of Alamore, as Colin and my family have proven for generations.”

  Will glanced at Colin, but Colin’s expression had become impossible to read.

  After breakfast, Carnel and Colin led the group outside, the squire and his cousin talking animatedly about what had changed at Lonnac since Colin had last visited. In the courtyard, the two left the group as Carnel insisted on showing Colin the upgrades he had made to the guards’ barrack.

  “Again, I don’t like the bloke. Colin might, but I don’t,” Rowan huffed, crossing his arms against the cold.

  “You don’t rightly care for anyone who has a respectful attitude,” Rockwood said, shaking his head. Then he paused, frowning thoughtfully. “Which is probably why the two of us are so alike.”

  Will hid his smile behind his hands as he breathed on them to keep warm. “What are we exactly waiting on?” he asked, stomping his feet and turning to the Ranger.

  The Ranger stared down at him, not answering for a long moment. “You couldn’t work that out after the conversation? Horses, boy, we are waiting on horses.”

  Annoyance flared inside Will and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting back. The Ranger wasn’t as terrifying to him now, perhaps, yet he was still an unknown in too many ways.

  Colin and Carnel returned a few minutes later, followed by stable hands leading saddled horses. Will was given the reins of a dark grey, the young animal dancing nervously as he settled into the saddle. “Easy,” Will stroked the animal’s neck, “Ease, boy.”

  Sir Ross didn’t appear until Rowan, the last to mount, was leaning forward to take the reins from his stable hand. Ross said nothing, nodding silent thanks to the hand that held the final horse; a stout dark brown mare with a small white star.

  Will watched the man swing up in silence and Colin moved his slight built horse to his knight’s side, not breaking the quiet between them. The man didn’t seem to even notice his squire as he stared out the opening gates.

  “Carnel, we cannot thank you enough for the hospitality,” said the King.

  Carnel waved the words aside, beaming as his face reddened. “There is no need to thank me! I would never turn away the heir to Lonnac or the King of Alamore. I do insist you come again, and, Colin, I hope you can visit soon.”

  “I do as well,” Colin said.

  “You are welcome to Alamore as a guest whenever you feel,” said the King as Ross started his horse through the gates in his sullen silence. “We would be happy to have you.”

  Carnel nodded, holding his hand up in a silent wave as the rest of the party followed Ross. The sun, high above them, seemed to mock with its lack of warmth. Will shivered. It was about to be another long day of riding and he didn’t look forward to it in the least.

  “Our guard is here,” Sir Miller announced, pointing toward the edge of the valley where a line of riders were trotting toward the castle. Will could make out the black hair and beard of Bane at the front. “And I really hope you reminded them to bring weapons,” Miller added.

  “I did. I can’t be the only one armed,” the King reassured him, his own hand resting on the sword hilt that hung from his saddle.

  When the Alamore reinforcements reached them, each squire was handed another dagger and a heavy cloak, while Sir Richard and Sir Bane handed swords out to the knights.

  “Haru,” Richard said, grimacing at his red-haired squire, “I dare say that you got a bit more experience in the matter of warfare than I would have bargained or asked for.”

  Haru grinned wickedly, clipping the sheathed sword from Sir Henry into his belt. “It was nothing more than a good exercise, Sir.”

  The Ranger snorted and pushed his borrowed horse into a trot. “Will, catch up. We’ve wasted enough time as is.”

  Will pressed his heel lightly to the side of the grey who skittered forward with choppy, short, strides. He suddenly missed Visra’s large movements. Even if this horse’s ears weren’t pinned flat as often through the ride, he had grown accustomed to the bay’s attitude and gait. This horse felt as though it could trot him right out of the saddle.

  “How often do you visit your father, Will?” the Ranger asked, slowing to a walk for the squire to catch up.

  “Um…I haven’t yet…” Will admitted. It felt strange for the Ranger to finally be speaking about Marl when, for the first time in what felt like ages, Marl hadn’t been on his mind at all. It felt as though years had passed since he had heard the Ranger and Marl speaking in the dining hall.

  The Ranger nodded, eyes fixed on the path ahead of them, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “How about letters? Have you told him anything about your training?”

  “No,” Will felt embarrassed. Since moving to the castle, he had barely thought of his family with the exception of suspicion from the Ranger and Marl’s interactions. “I should but I don’t.”

  “I’m telling you to continue as you have been. I can’t tell you everything, it’s not my place and this is certainly not the time, but I can tell you that I would feel better if you aren’t visiting, nor writing.”

  “What?” he stared at the Ranger. He couldn’t be serious. He was being told not to reach out to his family without being told why? And why couldn’t the Ranger tell him?

  “I’m not trying to make you angry, Will. There is too much going on and I don’t know enough of it myself. When I do know, for sure, I will tell you,” said the Ranger, his voice softening as though he had read the annoyance on Will’s face.

  Will nodded, his jaw tightening. “Thank you.”

  The Ranger nodded mutely and leaned forward in his saddle, encouraging his horse into a canter, out of the valley. Adjusting his seat, Will loosened the reins of the prancing grey and let the animal bolt forward in pursuit.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  For three weeks, Will found himself working in the walls of the castle. After returning, the King had announced that none of the younger squires were to leave the main fortress, that patrols on the nearby Thornten border were to double, and that the normally open drawbridge would stay closed.

  Will was growing restless. Even with the size of the castle, courtyard, and event arena behind the main castle, there was no denying that they were trapped. To add to his restlessness, the squires who had accompanied the King’s party to Phersal were still riding the borrowed Lonnac horses. Carnel had managed to send them one message, that two of their horses had come up lame and needed to wait and that, with the unrest on all borders, there was too much risk in making two trips to exchange animals.

  The grey, dubbed Flint by the stable hands and Moron Cow by Rowan, was impossible to compare to Visra. Though Flint allowed Will to practice with a sword from the saddle, the horse would pull back and bolt if two people practiced on foot. Additionally, Flint was high headed and nervous, never standing still when being saddled or mounted. It made Will nearly long fo
r the first disastrous days with the bay.

  “Oh, would you please just stand!” Will snapped as the saddle slid from the dancing back and crashed onto the barn floor. The colt spooked sideways, straining on his halter, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment.

  “He’s a bit dramatic,” Airagon commented, adjusting the saddle on Sir Bane’s large sorrel.

  Will grimaced and picked up the saddle. “I seriously cannot wait to get Vis back.”

  “Care to ride Jas?” Airagon asked, grinning.

  The two were alone in the barn, the others having already ridden to the arena. Flint’s antics at seeing the cross ties had started Will’s slow progress. Airagon, who had been assigned to a different horse each day, had been held up at breakfast while the knights decided which horse he could use.

 

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