The Royal Ranger: A New Beginning

Bumper saw her moving and gave a low rumble of noise. She looked at him and his ears pricked up. He sensed that she was going somewhere and wanted to go with her. She shook her head and put her finger to her lips.

  ‘Not now, boy. And keep silent.’

  He shook his mane and lowered his head again, going back to cropping the short grass. She thought he looked a little disappointed, then wondered if she was being fanciful. Could a horse express disappointment, she wondered. Then she dismissed the thought, realising she could be here all day debating it and never get a satisfactory answer.

  She strung her bow then donned her belt, heavy with the double scabbard for her saxe and her throwing knife. The weight of the knives was counterbalanced by the pouch of lead shot on her other hip. Finally, she slipped her quiver over her head, adjusting it so that the arrows lay easy to hand over her right shoulder. Then she donned her cape, opening the small flap on the right shoulder that allowed access to the arrows.

  She moved to the edge of the copse of trees, paused and sank to one knee while she scanned the ground around her. She did it as Will had taught her: first taking a wide overview, then searching one small part at a time, until she was sure there was nobody in sight.

  Staying in a crouch. she planned her path where the scrubby ground cover was highest, and headed for the clifftop, where Will was keeping watch.

  She moved slowly and smoothly, placing each foot carefully, testing the ground underfoot before she put her full weight on it. If she felt a twig or a branch, she would carefully move her foot to a clear spot, then proceed.

  Speed is the enemy of stealth, Will had told her. You’re better to move slowly and silently than to rush about making noise.

  She saw the tall grass moving to her left. The pre-dawn air was still, with no sign of a breeze. Instantly, she froze in place.

  Trust the cloak, she thought. That and stay completely still were the two principal mantras of unseen movement in the Ranger Corps.

  She didn’t even turn her head, swivelling her eyes instead to focus on the spot where she had seen movement. After some thirty seconds, a large fox slipped out of the long grass and padded away, belly low to the ground, long bushy tail streaming behind him. He hadn’t even noticed her.

  ‘I must be getting better at this,’ she said to herself. She wished Will could have seen how the fox was unaware of her presence. She could tell him about it, of course. But that wasn’t the same. It would seem like boasting.

  It is boasting, she realised.

  When she was forty metres from the cliff edge, she dropped silently to her hands and knees, staying below the tall grass. Even though she knew where Will was keeping watch, she could make out no sign of him. She raised her head to scan the terrain ahead of her. As she did so, she incautiously placed her hand on a clump of stiff, dry grass, causing a slight, rustling snap! as it broke.

  She paused. The sound had been so small that she was sure nobody would have noticed it. Then, ten metres away, in the spot where she knew Will was keeping watch, she saw his hand rise briefly above the top of the grass.

  He’d heard her. He knew she was coming. And he’d signalled her to let her know.

  She crawled forward, careful to make no more unnecessary noises. When she was two metres from Will’s position, she was able to discern the mottled cloak that covered him. He turned and she could see his bearded face in the shadow of his cowl. It was uncanny how still he could remain, she thought. If she hadn’t known to look for the cloak, she would probably never have seen him, even as close as she was.

  ‘Anything happening?’ she whispered.

  ‘Aside from you blundering about like a lost elephant?’ he asked, in the same low tone.

  She nodded, accepting the rebuke. ‘Aside from that.’

  He tilted his head towards the rim of the cliff, a metre or so away from them. ‘Take a look,’ he said. Then he added, unnecessarily, she thought, ‘Carefully.’

  She checked the direction of the sun. It was low and out to sea and a little to her left. She pulled her cowl forward to make sure her face was well in its shadow, then inched toward the cliff edge. Keeping her head below the level of the surrounding grass, she carefully parted several strands and peered through.

  There was a ship on the beach.

  She was about fifteen metres long, lean and narrow waisted. She was built for speed, Maddie thought. The hull was painted a dull black. She was built to be unobtrusive as well, she added mentally. She was pierced for six oars, three on either side. The square sail was loosely furled on the yardarm. From what she could see, it was made of black canvas.

  Behind the mast, in the centre of the deck, was a wooden cage. It stretched back for about a third of the ship’s length, ending a few metres from the steering platform.

  Will had edged up beside her, moving so silently that she had no idea he was there until she saw him in her peripheral vision.

  ‘See the cage?’ he said softly. ‘That’s where they’ll keep the slaves. There’ll be iron rings and shackles in there to keep them secured.’

  ‘When did she arrive?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘About two hours ago. She came in on the making tide. It’s starting to ebb now.’

  She noticed that the ship was canted slightly one side, as there was insufficient water under her to float her. The water was receding fast and already the bow was high and dry on the sand.

  ‘We’ll need to get a move on if we want to stop her,’ she said, but Will shook his head.

  ‘She’ll need high tide to go out again, and that’s not due until six or seven hours after noon. She’ll go out on the ebbing tide once there’s enough water to float her. And she’ll wait until it’s dark, just in case there are any ships patrolling.’

  Even as they were speaking, Maddie noticed, the water had receded to the last oar port on the black hull.

  ‘How many in the crew?’ she asked.

  ‘Seven. Six rowing and one helmsman. They’re in the mess tent.’

  She changed the direction of her gaze. Up until now, her attention had been totally distracted by the ship.

  ‘You should have noticed that yourself,’ Will admonished her gently.

  She bit her lip. He had taught her when she was viewing a scene to scan the entire area first, and to avoid focusing on any one object. Now, the first time it mattered, she had neglected to make an all-round sweep of the beach, concentrating instead on the black ship. The mess tent was the open-sided shelter on the beach. She studied it and could see the legs of a number of men sitting at the rough table. Their upper bodies were obscured by the canvas roof. She could hear a low murmur of voices, and occasional laughter. The cook fire was alight, and a column of smoke spiralled lazily into the air.

  She frowned. I’m going to have to do better, she thought. She realised that there was more to being a Ranger than being a crack shot with a bow or being able to move silently. A Ranger’s main job was to observe and report.

  Sensing her annoyance, Will touched her arm.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Learn from it. For the moment, take a good look at the layout of the camp, and where the cave and the cliff path are. Study it until you’re sure you can picture it all in your mind. Then we’ll get back to our own camp site.’

  She nodded, then settled down to study the beach below her, taking particular notice of the cave with the barred door and the rocky path that led down the cliff. She noted distances, angles and available cover between the path and the cave, then did the same with the cave and the tents. Finally, she set the relative position of the ship in her mind. When she was convinced that she had it fixed firmly in her memory, she squirmed back from the cliff edge and nodded to Will.

  ‘Got it,’ she said. He looked at her a moment, head slightly to one side.

  ‘How far from the cave to the mess tent?’ he asked.

  She saw again the picture of the beach she had engraved in her memory. ‘Thirty-five, maybe forty metres.’

  He nodded
. ‘And to the sleeping tents?’

  ‘Another ten.’

  ‘How far to the ship?’

  ‘A hundred and ten metres. And she’s a little to the right of the camp.’

  ‘Can you see the ship from the cave entrance?’

  She paused, frowning. She hadn’t been expecting that question. Then she answered carefully.

  ‘I don’t think so. The mess tent and the sleeping tents are in between those two points.’

  ‘Good girl.’ He touched her arm, then gestured behind them. ‘Let’s get back to where we can talk comfortably and we’ll go over the plan for tonight.’

  ‘Do we have a plan for tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘We certainly do.’

  ‘Is it a good plan? Will I like it?’ she asked, grinning cheekily.

  Will regarded her solemnly for several seconds.

  ‘It’s a great plan. You’re going to love it.’

  She thought about the situation. There were two of them, and now that the ship’s crew had added another seven men to the enemy, it was two against eighteen. They were pretty long odds, no matter how many arrows they might have.

  Whatever the plan was, she doubted that she was going to love it.

  MILL CLEARED A patch of dirt between them and sketched with the point of his saxe.

  ‘Here’s the cliff path, with the cave at the bottom of it –’ he began.

  ‘The cave is about ten metres from the path,’ she corrected him and he glared at her. She shrugged. ‘You said for me to study every detail. That’s a detail.’

  ‘Very well.’ He amended his sketch. ‘Happy now?’ She nodded. ‘Here’s the path. Here’s the cave. The tents are here.’ He indicated their position. ‘And the ship is here, down the beach.’

  He glanced up at her. ‘Any corrections?’ he asked, a little acidly.

  She made a small disclaiming gesture with one hand. ‘No. That looks fine.’

  ‘Now, the tide will start coming in about four hours after noon. It’ll be full by seven and then it’ll start to ebb. My guess is, the Iberians will want to go out on the ebbing tide when it’s full dark. That’ll be about an hour after high tide. They’ll still have enough water under their keel and the tide will take them out.’

  ‘Why will they wait till dark?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘There are patrols. The Skandians station a ship on the east coast for the King’s use. She patrols these waters, keeping an eye out for smugglers, pirates . . . and slavers. The Iberians won’t want to run into her, so they’ll wait for dark. You noticed the ship is all black?’

  She nodded.

  ‘That’s because they prefer to travel by night. Now the cave is on the left-hand side of the bay as you look out to sea. The ship is a little to the right of the middle of the beach. I plan to work my way down the cliffs on the right side of the beach, and get within a hundred metres of the ship –’

  ‘What if there’s no way down?’ she interrupted.

  He looked at her for a long moment, took a deep breath, then answered. ‘There is. I reconnoitred and found one while you were snoozing. Now don’t interrupt.’

  ‘You’ve always said I should have an inquiring mind,’ she said.

  ‘I have. But not an interrupting one. If you want to inquire, wait till I finish. Now, once I’m down the cliff, I’m going to start shooting fire arrows at the ship.’

  ‘Fire arrows?’

  He glared at her again.

  ‘That wasn’t an inquiry. It was more a statement,’ she said apologetically.

  ‘I’ll let it pass. Yes, I’ll start shooting fire arrows. If there’s one thing puts the fear of the hereafter into a sailor, it’s fire on board his ship. Ships are full of tarred rope and dried-out canvas and pinewood. They burn at the first hint of a flame.’

  ‘So they’ll go running down the beach to their ship to put the fire out?’ Maddie asked

  Will nodded. ‘And my guess is, Ruhl and his men will help them. If they lose that ship, all their work goes for nothing. Once they’re all bunched around the ship, I’ll pick off a few of Ruhl’s men. That’ll lessen the odds.’

  ‘They’ll come after you as soon as you do that,’ she said. There was a worried tone in her voice as she thought about him facing eighteen men on his own.

  He shook his head dismissively. ‘That’s the idea. I’ll lead them away, heading back up the cliffs to the south-west. And they won’t come too fast. Nothing slows a man down like the thought that he might be running into an arrow at any minute,’ he added grimly.

  ‘What do I do while all this is going on?’ she asked.

  He tapped the point of his saxe on the dirt map again, at the spot where the path was indicated.

  ‘I want you at the bottom of the path before I start. Once they head down the beach to the ship, you have to let the kids out.’ He paused and glanced at her appraisingly. ‘Do you know where the key is?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s on a hook on one of the mess tent support posts.’

  ‘Good girl. You get them out of the cave and lead them back up the path. Then head north as fast as you can. With all the commotion at the ship, odds are nobody will notice you going.’

  ‘And if they do?’

  ‘Well, that’s where all that practice with your bow and your sling will come in handy. Don’t let them get close. They’re killers and they won’t give you a second chance. If they’re coming at you, don’t hesitate to shoot them.’

  She thought about his plan for some moments. It seemed logical. It was simple enough, but Will had often told her that simple plans were the best. There was less to go wrong.

  ‘All right. And do we meet up again back here?’ she asked finally.

  But he shook his head. ‘You leg it north as fast as you can. I’ll take Ruhl and his men out to the south-west. Then I’ll shake them off and double back to join up with you.’

  He sounded confident. But she knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he was making it out to be. He sensed her concern.

  ‘If something goes wrong, head for Ambleton. It’s a large town on the highway, about fifteen kilometres up the coast. There’ll be a sheriff there and you should be safe. I’ll catch up with you eventually.’

  She looked at him doubtfully. ‘Make sure you do.’

  ‘Trust me,’ he said. Then he added, ‘There’s another thing. Once I get a fire started on the ship, there’s a better than even chance that the Iberians won’t wait around. They may well launch her and take her out to sea. After all, if they lose her, they’re finished.’

  ‘And it’ll be ten or eleven hours before the tide will let them back in,’ Maddie said.

  ‘Exactly. So that will cut down the numbers we’re facing. Any questions?’

  She looked at him. He was putting himself at enormous risk, she knew. Her part in this was dangerous, but he was the one exposing himself to the enemy, in order to lead them away from her and the prisoners as she made their way north. But she couldn’t think of a way to express this to him, so she finally answered.

  ‘No. It all seems clear.’

  ‘Good. Well, we’ve got five hours before we need to start moving. Might as well get some rest.’

  He settled back, his head pillowed on his saddle, arms crossed on his chest, and pulled his cowl over his face. Maddie’s stomach was churning with the anticipation of the night to come. Her nerves were taut as a bowstring.

  ‘How can you sleep at a time like this?’ she asked but the only answer was a low snore. She looked at him suspiciously. In the time she had been with him, she had never before heard him snore.

  ‘You’re faking,’ she said.

  ‘No. I’m really fast asleep,’ came his voice from under the cowl.

  Will rested for several hours. As the shadows began to lengthen, he rose and stretched. Then he fetched the case that held his spare arrows and the saddle bag where he kept his equipment. He unlaced the top of the case, glanced inside, then brought out half a dozen arrows. Maddie moved close
r to watch him. The arrows were all wrapped in an open weave cloth just behind their broadheads.

  ‘What are they?’ she asked curiously. She hadn’t seen them before. He glanced up at her.

  ‘Fire arrows,’ he said. ‘It makes sense to always have a few prepared. The cloth behind the broadhead changes the weight distribution. So when I make them, I rebalance them to make sure they fly the same as a normal arrow. I’ve also made them a little longer than my normal arrows so I can get a full draw. Obviously, once the tip is on fire, I can’t draw one of these all the way back to the bow.’

  ‘Do you always carry some with you?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘If I started making them up now, I’d be fiddling around getting the balance right.’

  ‘It pays to be prepared,’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘Exactly. You never know when you’re going to need something like this,’ he said, holding up one of the arrows. He took a small wooden cylinder from his equipment bag and unscrewed the lid. The cylinder was really a widemouthed jar containing oil and he slid three of the arrows into the oil, then set the cylinder down carefully, leaving the oil to soak into the cloth-wrapped tips of the arrows. After several minutes, he withdrew them, inspected them to make sure they were completely saturated, then wrapped the tips in a piece of oilcloth to stop the flammable oil evaporating. He placed the other arrows into the oil jar and repeated the process.

  Maddie watched him, fascinated. Once again, the thought occurred to her that there was more to being a Ranger than shooting straight and moving silently.

  ‘How are you going to light them?’ she said. ‘If you start striking a flint and lighting a fire, they’ll spot you before you can get a shot away.’

  ‘I’ll take a dark lantern,’ Will said. He showed her a small metal lantern with a candle inside. There was a shutter at the front that opened and closed, alternately blocking or releasing the light from the flame.

  She shook her head in admiration. ‘You’ve thought of everything,’ she said. But Will looked up at her and shook his head solemnly.

  ‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘No matter how thoroughly you plan, no matter how much you think you know, you’ve never thought of everything.’