“No, no, I’ll be alright,” Trent said, waving off Vincent’s offered hand. “I want to sit here for a few minutes. Besides, Weston will be here soon; he’ll be wanting his turn.”
“That’s right, I will,” Weston’s voice stated from behind Vincent. Vincent turned with a start as Weston put his hand on his shoulder.
“Where did you come from?” Vincent asked. “I didn’t even hear you coming.”
“Exactly,” Weston smiled.
“Well then,” Trent said, interrupting, “I’ll leave you two to your games.” He stumbled to his feet with great difficulty and started to walk away, doing a poor job of masking his fatigue.
Vincent watched him walk away until he felt Weston’s hand once again on his shoulder.
“Let’s get started,” Weston said in his deep, gruff voice. “We Rangers have got to be a sneaky lot to stay alive. Stealth is the name of the game.”
Vincent sized him up incredulously. Weston was short, stocky, and looked like the least stealthy individual he had ever met.
“Don’t believe me?” Weston asked, noting Vincent’s look. Faster than Vincent could follow, and without a sound, Weston darted behind Vincent and pressed a dagger to his back. “I’m stealthier than I look.”
“I can see that,” Vincent said, shocked.
“Stealth comes with practice,” Weston continued, sheathing his dagger. “Follow me, do as I do, and it will come.” With that, Weston darted off through the gate and into the forest. Vincent followed as best he could.
Darkness had fallen when they returned to the encampment. Vincent was panting heavily. Weston, on the other hand, looked as though he had just enjoyed a leisurely walk.
“I think I kept you a bit longer than I should have,” Weston said, looking at the sky. “Hope there’s still some food left for us.” He laughed as he patted Vincent on the back. They walked together to the Hall.
To Vincent’s surprise, the normal group was not there. A single figure sat silhouetted in the fire light.
“How was the first day of training?” Silva asked, without turning from the fire.
“Good,” Vincent answered as he sat next to his new mentor, “but a bit tiring.”
“Get used to it,” Silva said with a laugh. “It’s not going to get any easier.”
“Yeah,” Vincent muttered to himself quietly.
A pot of lentils was simmering over the coals of the fire. Vincent spooned himself a bowl and ate quietly. The warmth of the food was refreshing to his tired body. They ate in silence.
“I’ll see you both in the morning,” Vincent said, putting down his bowl.
“Sleep well.” Silva called as Vincent got up.
He smiled as he left the Hall. The night was crisp and clear. He slowly made his way to his cabin, enjoying the calm of the night air. His arms and legs burned from the heavy workout they had received that day, but that too felt somehow refreshing.
Vincent entered his cabin and went immediately to his room. He collapsed on his bed and was instantly asleep.
Chapter 8: The First Assignment
The orange glow of healing surrounded Vincent as soon as he walked through the doors of the sanctuary. This had become a daily routine, so he didn’t protest despite the fact he didn’t actually need healing. He hadn’t needed healing in a week, since Trent and his company had been sent out on a mission, leaving Vincent to train on his own. Vincent didn’t mind training on his own. He especially didn’t miss training with Lauren, who had managed to send him for healing every day. He still hadn’t managed to knock her off the beam, even once. She had fallen once on her own, but it had been raining and the beam had been slippery.
“You came in here every day for two months, looking for healing. This is the eighth straight day that you have sauntered in here without needing it,” Cynthia smiled. “You must be getting better.”
“No,” Vincent laughed, “the one who kept injuring me left.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Cynthia commented absently. The novelty of who he was seemed to have worn off. Vincent was grateful for this; it made their frequent visits much less awkward. In fact, he had developed a close friendship with the odd priestess.
“But there was something I wanted to tell you,” Vincent went on, hardly able to contain his excitement.
“Well, go on then,” Cynthia encouraged, feeding off of his excitement.
“I did it.”
“Did what?” The smile on Cynthia’s face faltered as confusion briefly flashed across her face.
“I maintained a blue fire for an hour.”
“Oh, Vincent, that’s wonderful,” Cynthia shrieked, garnering glares and mutters of distaste from the other priests in the sanctuary. “Have you told Master Silva yet?”
“No,” Vincent replied, “but I’m supposed to meet him after lunch. He said he had some news for me. You won’t tell him will you?”
“Of course not,” Cynthia winked. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. Now, I really must get back to my work.”
“Thanks for the company,” Vincent waved as he left the Sanctuary. He meant it. He was missing the camaraderie of Trent and his company; even Lauren was friendlier than the new company that had come in to replace them. They very rarely gathered together and spent most of their time in the forest. The time crawled as Vincent waited for his arranged meeting with Master Silva.
When the time finally arrived, Vincent rushed to the training field. Master Silva was already there.
“Good afternoon, Vincent,” Silva said cheerily as Vincent approached. “I see you’ve completed my first challenge.”
“How did you know,” Vincent looked at him, quite puzzled. Even if Cynthia had wanted to tell him, there hadn’t been time.
“Oh,” Silva replied with his sly smile, “I have my ways, but that’s beside the point. Trent and his company will be returning here late tonight to receive a new assignment. I want you to go with them. You are to shadow Trent. Do exactly as he says and you’ll be fine.”
“You’re sending me on a mission?” Vincent’s jaw dropped. “Already? But I’ve only been training for two months.”
“And what better way to gage how much you’ve improved than to put your new skills to the test in a practical setting?” Silva’s smile did little to reassure him. “Besides, you’ll be shadowing Trent, so you should be well out of harm’s way.”
“Well,” Vincent said hesitantly, “if those are your orders.”
“Great,” Silva said, cutting him off. “You have the remainder of the day off from training. Go rest up, get your things, and be ready to go when the sun sets.”
Vincent turned and started to walk slowly back to his cabin.
“One more thing,” Silva called after him. He turned just in time to catch a flying white object that Silva had thrown. “When acting as a Ranger, you must always wear that.”
Vincent looked at the white thing in his hands. It was a mask, the same one the others had worn on his first day at the encampment.
“Our identities are special, Vincent,” Silva added. “The only one who may know the identity of a Ranger is another Ranger. It’s safer that way. Now go get some rest.”
Vincent walked away, carefully examining the mask. It felt like steel, but was incredibly light weight. The mask blended smoothly, eliminating all facial features. A small slit over the mouth facilitated breathing. Three leather straps hung from the mask, two on the sides and one on the top.
He held the mask to his face. Surprisingly, it fit perfectly to his face and didn’t block his vision at all. It seemed to hold in place, even without the straps. He tied them anyway and continued on to his cabin.
There was very little in Vincent’s room, yet it still managed to look disorderly. Ignoring the mess he opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled out his black cloak and travel pack, which he still hadn’t completely unpacked since his arrival. He quickly stuffed his bed roll and a change of clothing into his travel pack on top of wha
t was already there and sat on his bed.
The sun still sat high in the midday sky. Half the day still lay ahead of him before he had to join Trent and the others. He got up and restlessly walked about the encampment. He made his way eventually to the sanctuary to bid farewell to Cynthia before he left. Their flirtatious exchange was welcome but it did little to ease the anxiety that was growing within him. The hours dragged by.
As the sun started to sink over the western horizon, Vincent returned to his cabin to collect the remainder of his supplies. He inspected his chain mail shirt as he pulled it off the rack in the corner of the room. He had not worn it, or even looked at it, since he had laid it there two months earlier. It still shone like new.
Vincent pulled the shirt over his head, followed by his black tunic. Fastening his cloak around his neck, and tying on the mask, he grabbed his pack and went to wait at the training field. The last rays of light were disappearing over the horizon as Vincent arrived. Dark clouds were gathering and it looked like it would rain before long. Silva was already there, staring toward the gate.
“Good evening Vincent,” Silva said without turning. “Are you ready to go?”
“I think so.”
“Let’s hope so,” Silva laughed, “because here comes Trent.”
Vincent looked toward the gate. He could barely make out the lone figure that was strolling causally toward them.
A hand clapped Vincent’s shoulder from behind, startling him. He turned to see Trent chuckling to himself quietly. Vincent looked back to see the figure dissolve into the night.
“Dramatic, as always,” Silva smiled.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Trent replied. “Fifth Company reporting in,” he said, suddenly becoming very formal. “Your orders, Sir?”
“I’ve received a report from Muggire. Seems they’ve been having a lot of sheep stolen recently. Some thieves have probably dug into the mountain side. See if you can put a stop to it,” Silva almost sounded bored as he explained the mission. “It’s a yellow class, orange at most. It’s a little easier than your normal missions, but I know you’ve grown attached to that town, which is why I saved it for you. Send my greetings to Ryan.”
“With pleasure,” Trent replied. “Will that be all?”
“No,” Silva was smiling again. “Take the boy with you; he’ll be your shadow. Show him what it means to be a Ranger.”
“Even better,” Trent laughed. “Well then, we’ll be off. I’ll report back as soon as we’re finished.”
“May the Goddess watch over you,” Silva said as they clasped arms.
“I doubt I’ll need watching over on this one,” Trent was still laughing, “but thank you none the less.
“Right, Vincent, let’s go.” Trent walked off without waiting to see if Vincent followed. Vincent scrambled to keep up. They exited the gate and went a short distance before Trent stopped. The first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
“Rangers,” Trent called. Immediately the four others emerged from the brush, all wearing their masks.
“So what’s the news?” Ben’s voice came from behind the mask on Vincent’s left, his voice like soft velvet.
“Nothing exciting,” Trent sounded disappointed, “just some sheep thieves to root out, yellow class.”
“That’s outright boring,” David’s voice complained from behind the mask to Vincent’s right.
“On the plus side,” Trent added with a sly smile, “Vincent will be joining us.”
“He better not get in the way.” Lauren grumbled from behind the other mask to Vincent’s left.
“Alright then,” Trent said, clapping his hands together, “Let’s get some road behind us before we set up camp. Rangers, move out.”
They quickly and quietly made their way to the fork that lead to the abbey and turned right, heading south west. Ben and Lauren dashed off into the woods on the left side of the road while Weston and David took the right. Trent motioned for Vincent to follow him as he strode down the middle of the road. The rain was now falling heavily. They walked in silence for some time.
“Vincent, I think it would be best if you didn’t use your token on this mission, or any other for that matter. That is, until Master Silva instructs you otherwise.”
“I thought as much,” Vincent replied quietly.
“Good,” Trent was obviously relieved. “Well then, this looks like a good spot to set up camp.” Trent raised his fist in the air and immediately the four others came out of the woods. Vincent had almost forgotten about them as they moved silently through the shadows.
“We’ll set up here,” Trent said, pointing into the forest on the left.
A short distance into the woods, there was a small clearing. It was obvious that the spot was frequently used as a campsite as all the surrounding brush had been cleared and there were numerous signs of campfires.
The company immediately went about setting up camp, unrolling their bed-rolls and disarming, each trying to find the most shelter they could from the rain. David was trying with little success to start a fire, but the wood was all too wet to ignite. Finally he threw down his tinderbox in despair. He cast a furtive glance at Vincent. Vincent winked in reply and embraced his token. David tried again and this time the flames took hold, quickly consuming the piled wood.
“Vincent,” Trent stared first at the fire, then at Vincent, clearly suspicious, “you have first watch tonight. We’ll change every hour.”
Vincent sat next to the fire as David crawled away to his bed roll. The others were asleep quickly, despite the rain. The hour passed uneventfully. A few times he thought he saw the specter of a man out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked, there was nothing.
When the hour had expired, as best Vincent could tell, he woke David who grumbled at being woken so soon. Vincent didn’t care though; he found his own bed roll and was quickly asleep. Morning came much too quickly.
After a breakfast of scavenged berries, they continued down the road as they had the night before. The rain had stopped, but the day was still cloudy. They met no one as they traveled.
Shortly after midday an unusual bird call trilled to the right of the road. The call was echoed shortly thereafter from the left.
Trent paused for a moment and opened his cloak, revealing a large mace hanging through a loop on his belt. This he drew and concealed once again beneath his cloak.
“We may see some excitement yet,” Trent said with a wink.
“What do you mean?” Vincent asked.
“Those bird calls you just heard are signals,” Trent explained. “They mean that there are some thieves hiding up ahead, waiting to ambush unsuspecting travelers.” He smiled, “We may be a little more than they expect though. Pull your hood a little further over your face to hide the mask.”
Vincent did as he was told, then started to draw one of his swords, but Trent stopped him.
“I don’t think there will be need of that just yet.”
They continued on, at a more cautious pace. They hadn’t gone far when two very large men burst from the forest holding even larger clubs.
“’Ay, yous there, stop,” the one on the left said, pointing a stubby finger at Vincent and Trent. “This is our road; yous’ll have to pay to walk on it.”
“This road,” Trent said calmly, “is within the Imperial borders, and belongs to the Emperor. Therefore, we’re not paying anything.”
“If you won’t pay,” the other brute chimed in, “then we’ll take it from you.”
“That would be theft,” Trent said as he started to pull back his hood. “That makes you thieves. So I hereby place you under arrest. You will submit to our authority and accompany us to Muggire to stand trial for your actions.”
“They’s Rangers, Jacob,” The one on the left said, noticeably frightened. “What do we do?”
“They ain’t taking me,” the one called Jacob said defiantly. “C’mon, there’s only two.” Jacob hefted his club and started running
at Trent.
“Jacob, No!” The other called, but it was too late. Trent quickly pulled out his mace and swung at the charging form. His mace connected with a crack on the side of Jacob’s head. His body fell like a tree and lay motionless.
“Jacob,” the remaining thief cried angrily. “You’ll pay for that,” he snarled. The remaining brute turned his anger on Vincent and started swinging wildly as he charged. Vincent easily dodged the blows as his assailant approached, simply adding to his anger.
Suddenly the thief gave an agonized cry as another crack spilt the air. He too fell to the earth. David stood directly behind where he had stood, holding a thick tree branch.
“Well,” David said, checking the bodies. “They should be out for a few hours. I can’t imagine the headache that they’ll have when they come to.”
“Bind them and drag the bodies to the side of the road,” Trent instructed. “We’ll report our actions to the council at Muggire and have them send some people out to collect our friends here.”
Once the unfortunate thieves were safely out of the way, they continued down the road. After a short distance, the forest started to thin out and then gave way completely to vast open fields. Small farmhouses dotted the landscape, surrounded by herds of animals. The fields ended abruptly in the distance as they met the tree covered mountains. At the base of the mountains, was nestled the little town of Muggire.
“Alright,” Trent said, calling a halt again. “They’re expecting us here. Let’s put on a good show for them. Single file now. Vincent, I want you in the back. Take note of everything the company does. This will be a very standard contact.” He paused a moment. “Let’s pick up the pace a bit, I’d like to arrive before nightfall.” He took off at a light run.
The others fell in behind him, matching him stride for stride. They pulled up their hoods as they ran and drew their cloaks tight around them. In very little time they had arrived at the outskirts of the village.
“Vincent,” Trent called back as he slowed the pace to a walk, “I forgot to mention one thing; only the commander of an operation speaks to the client. It’s part of the image.”
The Ranger (Book 1) Page 11
