‘Come on!’ he yelled, leading a renewed rush. ‘There’s only one man!’
As he ploughed up the path, it occurred to him that it might be only one man, but the casual ease with which he had picked off the crossbowman might prove to be a problem.
The lock on the gate was stiff and Maddie wrestled with it for what seemed like a lifetime before it suddenly sprang free. She dragged the gate open and was met by a chorus of frightened voices. In the darkness, she sensed rather than saw the children inching back – away from her.
‘It’s all right. I’m a friend. I’m here to help you.’
She tried to make her voice calm and reassuring. But the tension and excitement made it come out like a high-pitched, nervous shriek. She realised that they could only see her as a cloaked silhouette against the lights on the beach. She swung her cloak off and held her arms out.
‘Look! I’m a girl! I’m a Ranger and I’m here to help you. Come on now.’
Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness in the cave and she could make them out now – a group of dim shapes huddled together. One, a boy who was taller than the others, stepped forward suspiciously.
‘You’re not a Ranger. Girls aren’t Rangers,’ he said.
She took a deep breath. She wanted to grab his nose and drag him out of the cave. But she knew if she did that, she’d never get the rest of them moving. They’d huddle together and cry. She forced herself to be calm, forced her voice into a lower, more normal, register.
‘Well, I am. My name’s Maddie and I’m apprenticed to Will Treaty.’
There was a low murmur of recognition. Everyone had heard of Will Treaty. She realised the power of the name and invoked it again.
‘Will wants you to come with me and go back up the cliff. He’ll meet up with us tomorrow, after he’s finished off the Stealer and his friends. Now come on.’
They hesitated still and she took the tall boy’s arm. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
‘Tim. Tim Stoker.’
‘Well, listen to me, Tim. I need you to help me. Take charge of the little ones and get them up that path. I’ll bring up the rear to make sure no one follows us. All right?’
She made her voice as calm and reassuring as she could, looking steadily into his eyes. She saw his back straighten as he accepted the job she’d give him.
‘All right,’ he said. Then he turned to the others. ‘Follow me, everyone. Do as the Ranger says. It’s all right. She’ll look after us.’
Nervously, reluctantly, they began to move out of the cave, the tall boy leading the way. Maddie stood to one side, ushering them out, pointing them towards the cliff path, shoving them gently on their way. Moving with a maddening lack of speed, they began to climb the rough track behind Tim Stoker.
The Storyman was a coward.
He was more than happy to frighten young children with tales of the Stealer in the Night, and the terrible things that would follow if they told their parents one word about him. But when it came to following a skilled archer up a dark cliff, that was another matter altogether.
He too had noticed the casual ease with which Will had brought down the man with the crossbow. He’d seen another gang member dropped cold on the deck of the ship, and a third spun around by an arrow through the arm. He wasn’t going to chance that he’d be the next victim. It was one thing to terrify helpless children. Facing a skilled and determined warrior was another matter altogether.
He hesitated at the base of the cliff. He looked back uncertainly towards the camp, then narrowed his eyes. Something was moving on the path by the cave where the prisoners were confined. He strained his eyes and uttered a low curse. There was a line of figures wending their way up the path.
He turned back to alert his companions. But the nearest was halfway up the cliff, and Jory himself was already scrambling over the crest. He came to a decision. Let Jory and the others take care of the lone archer. He’d recapture the prisoners, who had somehow escaped.
He turned and began to run back towards the camp site.
Will saw the first figure come over the crest of the cliff, crouching low to avoid an arrow. He snorted disdainfully. If he wanted to, he could drop the man easily, crouching or not. But that wasn’t his task at the moment. He had to lead them away to give Maddie a chance.
He started to run through the waist-high scrub. Then he stopped, grabbed a nearby bush and shook it violently, kicking at its lower branches to snap them.
Ruhl heard him. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw the dark figure moving away.
‘This way!’ the Stealer yelled, then added, ‘Spread out! Don’t make an easy target!’
Will nodded in satisfaction. He’d keep making noise and letting them see him until dawn. Then, when he’d led them far to the south, he’d start moving more cautiously and double back to meet Maddie.
Maddie heard feet pounding on the beach as the Storyman approached. She was a few metres from the cave, ready to intercept any pursuit. The last of the children was halfway to the first switchback, some five metres above the beach. She shrank back against the rough cliff face, pulling the cloak around her. She took a shot from her pouch and loaded it into the sling.
The Storyman burst into sight from behind the tents and ran past without seeing her, moving too fast for her to react. He plunged up the path after the children, eating up the distance with his long strides. They began to cry out in terror as they saw the frightening blue-cloaked figure chasing them. The last in line, a girl, tried to run and slipped on the loose shale. Then the Storyman was upon her, his cloak swirling around him like the wings of some evil night creature. He dragged her upright, shouting furiously at her. The girl cried in terror, held fast in his grip.
Maddie hesitated. If she threw now, the shot might well hit the girl.
‘Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you disobeyed? Didn’t I? Didn’t I?’ The Storyman shook the girl violently and she screamed all the louder as her terror grew.
‘Leave her alone! Let her go, you coward!’
The young voice cut through the Storyman’s shouting and the girl’s sobs. It was Tim Stoker, the tall boy Maddie had ordered to lead the way. He came plunging back down the cliff path now, shoving past the other children, sliding and slipping on the loose rocks. Off balance and unable to stop, he blundered awkwardly into the Storyman, who released the girl, throwing her back against the cliff face. He grabbed Tim’s collar instead, reaching with his free hand to a draw a long-bladed knife from a boot sheath.
‘Defy me, would you? Let’s see how brave you are when I cut you, you little swine!’
His arm went back, preparing to bring the blade across the boy’s throat in a long slashing movement. Maddie knew she had to risk a shot now. If she hesitated, Tim would die.
She whipped the sling over and forward. The lead ball caught the moonlight, glinting once as it flashed towards its target. Then it smashed home below the Storyman’s raised right arm.
He gasped with the shock and the sudden, savage pain as the heavy lead ball splintered a rib. He dropped the knife and released his grip on Tim’s collar. He drew in a breath to scream and the action caused him more agony as the jagged ends of the fractured rib grated together. He screamed even louder, clasping both hands to his shattered side. He turned, stumbled on the uneven footing, then realised that there was nothing but air beneath his right foot.
For a moment, he seemed to waver, tottering off balance as he slowly leaned further over the drop. Then he fell, landing with a sickening crunch on the rocks below.
Maddie was already moving up the path. She gently caught hold of the young girl and helped her to her feet.
‘Come on, my dear one. You’re safe now,’ she said.
The little girl looked up at her, wide eyed. Then, slowly, a smile spread over her face as she realised that the terrifying Storyman was gone.
‘I am. I’m safe now,’ she repeated.
Maddie patted her shoulder and g
ently shoved her on her way up the cliff once more. The other children, who had been frozen in place, slowly began to move again.
‘Faster!’ Maddie urged, with an edge on her voice. ‘You’ve got to move faster.’
She turned back to help Tim Stoker to his feet. He had been sprawled on the rocks when the Storyman had released him. His face was white with fear as he remembered how close he had come to dying.
‘You’re a brave boy,’ she told him. It didn’t occur to her that he was only a few years younger than she. ‘Are you all right?’
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, knowing his voice would quaver uncontrollably. She put a hand on his shoulder and urged him up the path after the others.
‘Get moving, Tim. We have to get out of here.’ She realised that it might help if she gave him a further task. ‘Keep them moving. Get them to move faster. Can you do that for me?’
His eyes were huge, the fear still in them. Then he gradually brought himself under control and nodded.
‘Wh-where’s the Storyman?’ he asked. He still wasn’t sure what had happened. One moment he was staring at that long knife as it prepared to slash down at him. The next, he was sprawling on the rocky path. Maddie squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.
‘You don’t need to worry about him any more,’ she said. ‘He’s dead.’
‘Dead?’ he repeated, wanting to be sure. She nodded emphatically.
‘Stone dead,’ she said, suddenly aware of the unintended irony. Tim studied her face for a few seconds, then turned away, starting up the cliff.
‘I’ll keep them moving,’ he said. She watched him go and let out a long, pent-up breath. Then, just to make sure, she moved to the edge of the cliff and peered over.
The Storyman was a dark shape on the rocks below. His cloak fluttered in the breeze. He had landed on his back across an upthrusting rock and now his body was twisted at an unnatural angle. There was no sign of movement.
‘Tell that in one of your stories,’ she said savagely. Then she started up the path after the children.
MADDIE REACHED THE top of the cliff path to find the ten former prisoners huddled together, waiting for her. She retrieved her bow from the long grass where she had left it earlier that evening. She shook her head at the thought of it. It seemed to be days since the time when she had started down the path, not hours.
‘Let’s move away from the cliff edge,’ she said. She was conscious that, at any moment, Ruhl might give up his pursuit of Will and return to the camp to find his prisoners gone. There was no sense in standing against the skyline so that they could be seen from the beach.
The children shuffled a few metres away from the cliff, then stood in a half circle, watching her expectantly. There were six boys and four girls. She judged their ages to range from around ten to fourteen. She scanned their faces and saw a mixture of fear, bewilderment and relief. She took a few deep breaths. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins following the encounter with the Storyman and she knew that when she was excited or tense, her voice tended to go up into a shrill register. She had the good sense to realise that would be anything but encouraging for the children watching her.
‘All right,’ she said, when she was sufficiently calm. ‘Here’s what’s happening. You were captured by a slaving gang.’
‘We were taken by the Stealer in the Night. He’s a spook,’ one of the younger girls corrected her. At the mention of the name, the others looked around nervously. Unconsciously, they moved closer together.
Maddie shook her head and continued in a patient tone. ‘He’s not a spook and you don’t have to be frightened of him any more. He’s just a man – but he is a very bad man and he’s a slave trader. He was going to sell you all as slaves.’
‘He said he was going to lock us away in a dark, dark dungeon and rats would eat our toes and ghouls would drink our blood in the night and he’d take out our eyes if we ever disobeyed him.’ That was one of the younger boys. The others all mumbled agreement. Maddie made a calming gesture.
‘He just said that to frighten you,’ she told them. And it worked, she thought to herself. She paused, remembering the calming power of Will’s name when she had used it earlier that evening. Fight a spirit with a legend, she thought.
‘Now, tell me, how many of you have heard of Will Treaty?’
Ten hands raised in unison and, in spite of the gravity of the situation, she had to smile. Everyone had heard of Will Treaty.
‘Well, Will Treaty is my master, and he’s going to help us.’
Predictably, they all looked around to see where he was and she added, with a little asperity, ‘He’s not here now. He’s gone to chase the Stealer and his men away.’
That wasn’t exactly the way of it, she thought, but it was close enough for the moment. She decided the exact truth could stand a little colouring.
‘And when he catches the Stealer, he’s going to kill him,’ she told them. That seemed to give them a certain amount of encouragement. They liked the idea of the famous Will Treaty killing the Stealer who had caused them so much pain and terror.
‘How will he kill him?’ asked the boy who had spoken earlier. She looked at him, realising that, being a boy, he wanted grim and gory details. But she didn’t think the time was right for that.
‘Never you mind. He’ll find a way.’
‘I hope he hurts him!’ the boy said viciously. ‘I hope he really, really hurts him.’
‘I’m sure he will, and we’ll ask him all about it when we see him,’ she said. Then she clapped her hands together to get their attention away from the Stealer and his imminent, painful demise. ‘Now!’ she said briskly. ‘We have to get moving. We can’t stay here and we have to get to Ambleton as fast as we possibly can. The bigger ones can go on foot. But you smaller children can ride.’
She put her fingers in her mouth and gave out a low whistle. She heard a brief whinny in reply, then Tug and Bumper trotted out of the dark. She and Will had brought them forward earlier in the evening, sensing that some of the smaller children might need to ride.
Will had declined to take Tug with him.
‘I’ll want to let Ruhl keep me in sight when I’m leading him away. If I’m mounted, he’ll give up. Or he’ll realise I’m faking if I don’t make a clean getaway. Better to leave both horses with you. They can help with the children.’
She assessed the group now, selecting the youngest of the children.
‘You three,’ she said, pointing to a boy and two girls who looked to be about ten years old. ‘Do you want to ride on Will Treaty’s famous horse, Tug?’
Tug rattled his mane and looked approvingly at her. I always knew I liked you.
But of course, Maddie didn’t hear him. The three children stared round-eyed at the stocky grey and nodded their heads.
‘Come on then.’ She lifted the first girl to place her in the saddle. Then she had second thoughts. She set the girl down and moved to face Tug, searching her memory for the code phrase Will had told her so casually on the day she was given Bumper. Finally, it came to her.
‘Do you mind?’ she said softly. She hoped the phrase would be acceptable for a third party. Tug’s intelligent eyes met hers. His head went up and down two or three times.
She had been pretty sure he wouldn’t buck off a small child, but it paid to make certain.
She picked the girl up again and boosted her into the saddle. Maddie kept one hand on her arm as she looked warily at Tug.
‘Don’t do anything silly, will you?’ she said. Tug turned his head to look her in the eyes. She could almost swear that if he could have raised an eyebrow, he would have. But he didn’t buck or plunge. Heartened, she picked up the second child, a boy this time, and lifted him onto the horse’s back as well. Again, Tug stood steadily and she knew it was all right. She boosted the third child up. Even their combined weight was a light load for the hardy little horse, she knew. She nodded her thanks to Tug and moved to stand by Bumper.
‘Do you want to ride this horse?’ she asked another of the younger ones.
The little girl nodded, then asked, ‘Whose famous horse is this?’
Bumper neighed. The sound was amazingly like a snigger. She thought quickly.
‘Have you heard of Will Treaty’s famous friend, Sir Horace, the Oakleaf Knight?’
The girl nodded.
‘This is his horse.’
I most certainly am not! I wouldn’t want a big lump like him riding me.
She moved closer to Bumper and whispered, ‘Just go along with it, will you? And how do you know my dad is a big lump?’
He’s a knight. They’re all big lumps. But all right, hoist her up.
‘Don’t break her, all right?’ She wasn’t sure if Bumper needed to hear his code phrase as well but she said it anyway.
Oh really!
She lifted the little girl into the saddle and looked around for another small child. Tim Stoker raised a hand to catch her attention.
‘Miss Maddie?’
She rolled her eyes. She felt positively ancient. ‘Maddie will do, Tim. What is it?’
‘Rob here has a bad leg. The Storyman burnt him with a hot iron.’
He indicated another boy, around his own age. Rob was shorter than Tim, and a little stockier. If he rode on Bumper, she wouldn’t be able to put a third child on him as well. But she shrugged. The remaining children were all older and bigger. She gestured to Rob.
‘Up you go then, Rob. Mind that leg.’
She helped him put his foot in the stirrup. His right leg, she saw now, was heavily bandaged. He swung gingerly up into the saddle, sitting behind the girl.
She turned to face the remaining five children.
‘All right, we have to go now. And we have to go quickly. I know some of you aren’t feeling well and you haven’t been properly fed for days – or even weeks. But I want to ask this one effort from you. If you become too tired, let me know and you can ride one of the horses for a while. All right?’
Ranger's Apprentice 12: The Royal Ranger Page 31
