The Royal Ranger: The Missing Prince

by John F. Flanagan

  Jem did as he was told, shuffling closer and placing his left arm around Barton’s heavyset shoulders. Will studied them for a few seconds, then nodded approval.

  “That’ll do nicely,” he said. “We’ve got a nice long walk ahead of us.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Barton asked fearfully. He knew that, as an apprehended bandit, his next few years would not be pleasant.

  “Willow Bend Village,” Will told him. This was the village where he had sold the farm’s goods. “They’ve got a constable there and a nice warm jail. You’ll love it.”

  Barton’s sour expression indicated that this was unlikely.

  Will continued. “On the way, you can tell us where to find that friend of yours who ran off.”

  A crafty expression came over Barton’s face. “If I do, will you ask the magistrate to give me a reduced sentence?” he wheedled.

  Will regarded him without any expression for several seconds. “No,” he said at length. “But if you don’t, I’ll ask Maddie here to shoot you in the leg as well.”

  Of course, there was no way he would ever carry out such a threat. But Barton wasn’t to know it. It was the sort of thing that the burly robber would do himself and he assumed other people were just as vindictive as he was.

  “There’s a game trail off the road about two kilometers away. It leads to our cabin,” Barton told him. “That’s where you’ll find him.”

  5

  They found Donald in the hut, as Barton had predicted. Showing a distinct lack of imagination, he was hiding under a bed. Unfortunately, the bed was several inches shorter than he was and his feet protruded at one end.

  “Bandits just aren’t what they used to be,” Will said with mock regret as they thumbcuffed Donald and added him to their little cavalcade.

  “They used to be smarter then?” Maddie asked.

  He shrugged. “It seemed that way. They were certainly braver.”

  They continued on to Willow Bend, riding comfortably while the former bandits shuffled awkwardly ahead of them. Barton and Jem moved clumsily, trying to keep in step, and the other two, with their hands secured behind them, were constantly losing their balance on the uneven surface of the road.

  “Couldn’t we ride in the cart?” Jem pleaded after they had gone a kilometer past the spot where they had caught up with Donald.

  Will laughed without humor. “You could,” he said, and Jem’s face brightened. “But you’re not going to,” Will added, and the outlaw’s face fell once more.

  They rode up the single main street of Willow Bend, watched by the curious villagers, and stopped outside the constable’s watch house, which also housed the town jail. The constable, a burly man in his mid-fifties, hurried out to greet them. Rangers were important visitors and Will had donned his Ranger cloak, tossing the patched old farm smock into the tray of the cart.

  “Rangers,” the constable said respectfully. “Please step down.”

  It was good manners to wait to dismount until you were invited. Maddie and Will swung down easily now.

  “I’m Will Treaty. This is Ranger Maddie Regale,” Will said. He saw the constable’s eyes widen slightly at his name. Will Treaty was a larger-than-life figure in this part of the country. In most parts of the country, in fact. Will jerked his thumb at the four forlorn figures who had preceded them.

  “These are the men who’ve been preying on farm folk going to market,” he said. “You can keep them in your jail until the magistrate makes his monthly rounds. Then they can serve their sentence at Castle Redmont.” He handed across a rolled scroll. “This is my deposition. You can give it to the magistrate. Until he hears their case, you can use them for any unpleasant tasks you might have in the village.”

  The constable took the scroll and tucked it into his belt. He rubbed his hands together expectantly. There were always plenty of dirty, unpleasant laboring tasks to be carried out in the village. Privies had to be dug, cesspools to be drained and cleaned. Barton and his gang wouldn’t be left sitting idle while they waited for their trial.

  “How did you come upon them?” he asked. For obvious reasons, Will’s plan of posing as a farmer going to the market had not been widely known.

  “I took Malcolm Tillerman’s place,” Will told him. “And took his products to market. These sad specimens tried to rob me on the way back. Malcolm’s money is in the cart there. You can pass it on to him with my thanks. I hope I got a good price for his goods.”

  The constable grinned. “Not as good as he would have,” he said. Malcolm was known in the district as a man who drove a hard bargain. He turned back to the watch house behind him.

  “Barney! Joseph!” he called. “Out here, please!”

  Two heavyset men emerged from the watch house—members of the watch were usually on the large side. They were dressed in the simple uniform of the town watch—a leather jerkin over wool trousers and knee-high boots, with a heavy leather belt carrying their keys and their truncheons, the twin symbols of their office.

  “Get these four inside,” the constable told them, and they shepherded the bandits into the building.

  “If you have a local healer, you might get him to look at that leg wound on the blond one,” Will said. “I’ve bandaged it but it’ll need cleaning to stop it getting infected.”

  “We’ve an apothecary in the village,” the constable told him. “I’ll send for him.”

  Will nodded. “Do that. And for now, we’ll bid you good day and be on our way.”

  The watch house had a small yard at the rear. They unharnessed the mule from the cart and left both in the yard, carrying the leather money sacks into the constable’s quarters for safekeeping. Then, making their farewells, they mounted Bumper and Tug and rode off, heading for the highway that led to Castle Redmont.

  “Why do you call me Maddie Regale?” Maddie asked after they had been riding for some time. Will turned in the saddle to look at her.

  “I have to call you something,” he said. “Just ‘Maddie’ doesn’t seem to be enough somehow.”

  They rode on for several hundred meters before she spoke again.

  “You could call me Maddie Altman,” she suggested. “That’s Dad’s name, after all. So it’s really my name too.”

  “I could,” Will replied. There was a note of doubt in his voice. “But Horace’s name is relatively well-known and recognized. He’s quite a famous figure, after all. People might put two and two together and figure out that you’re his daughter.”

  “So?” Maddie asked.

  “So then they would realize that if you’re his daughter, you’re also Cassandra’s daughter, and the second in line to the throne. And you know that we prefer to keep that fact secret.”

  It had been agreed, several years before, that if Maddie were to serve as a Ranger’s apprentice, and eventually as a Ranger, her relationship to the royal family must be concealed. Rangers needed to maintain a high level of anonymity. In addition, the knowledge that she was second in line to the throne might endanger her life. She could be targeted by enemies seeking to put pressure on the King. It would certainly draw attention to her and make it difficult for her to maintain the secrecy that was so much a part of a Ranger’s life.

  “So, why Regale?” she asked. She pronounced it the way Will had, in the Gallic fashion, so that it sounded like Regahl, rather than Regail.

  “Initially, I thought of calling you Maddie Royal,” Will said. “Being as you’re a princess and such. But I realized that would be almost as bad as calling you Altman. People would soon twig that you actually were royal. Then they’d realize you’re a princess and we’d be back where we started.”

  “So where did Regale come from?”

  “It’s similar to Royal. It means much the same thing, but it’s not as obvious. Particularly when we pronounce it in the Gallic fashion. Most people won’t make the link
.” He paused. “Don’t you like being Regale?” he said eventually.

  She shook her head. “Maddie Regale,” she said derisively. “It sounds like ‘madrigal’ if you say it quickly.”

  “A fine dance, the madrigal,” Will told her, grinning.

  She sniffed. “A fine dance, maybe. But a dumb name. I don’t like it.”

  “I think it suits you,” Will said, teasing her. “It’s melodic and happy, just like you.”

  “Well, I wish you’d think of another name for me,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Wish away,” he said. “You should be grateful I thought of that one. I’m not good at names. It takes me ages to think of a name when I get a new dog.”

  “Thanks for comparing me to Sable,” Maddie said. Sable was Will’s current border collie, a descendant of Shadow, his first dog.

  “Think nothing of it. I’m very fond of Sable,” he told her.

  “Maybe I should just revert to plain old Maddie,” she said, “and skip having a second name.” But before she finished, Will was shaking his head, all traces of humor gone from his expression.

  “You need a second name,” he said seriously. “Everyone does. If you don’t have a second name you feel somehow detached and rootless. You feel incomplete. I should know,” he added. “I spent half my life without a second name—just known as ‘Will, the orphan boy.’”

  She was somewhat surprised by the intensity of his feelings. “Was it really that bad?” she asked.

  He shrugged, a little embarrassed that he had exposed that aspect of his life. “I guess I was happy enough,” he said. “But all the others in the ward—Horace, Alyss, Jenny and George—they all had family names. They might have lost their parents but they knew who they had been. They knew where they came from. I didn’t and I guess I felt . . . I don’t know . . . left out somehow.”

  She regarded him with interest. She was surprised to hear that he had ever felt so insecure. Will was such a capable person, sure of himself and full of confidence. It was difficult to think of him feeling inferior.

  “I guess I’ll stay as Maddie Madrigal then,” she said.

  He smiled. “You could do worse.”

  When the shadows lengthened, they were still three or four hours away from Redmont and their cabin among the trees. They were in no rush, so they made camp in a sheltered glade a little way from the highway.

  Maddie enjoyed camping out with Will. He was an excellent camp cook and he always served up a delicious dinner. Somehow, the fact that they were eating it in the open air, with the scent of woodsmoke from their fire wafting around them, made it taste even better.

  As did the strong, sweet coffee they drank afterward.

  It was a fine night so they didn’t bother with their tents. They spread out their bedrolls and wrapped themselves in their cloaks to sleep. Maddie lay on her back, gazing up at the stars as they wheeled slowly overhead, and sighed contentedly.

  “I love this life,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I could ever go back to living in the palace and being a princess.”

  “You may need to take over as queen one day,” Will told her.

  She shook her head. “Someone else can do that. I’m a Ranger. I love being a Ranger.”

  “That’s what makes you a good one,” Will said, and she turned in surprise to look at him. He rarely uttered such words of praise. She waited for him to say more but his deep, even breathing told her he was already asleep.

  Or was pretending to be.

  6

  Will and Maddie rode slowly up the high street of the little village below Castle Redmont, nodding to the villagers who called greetings to them as they passed by. Will was a popular figure in the village. He had grown up in Redmont, first in the ward that Baron Arald maintained for orphaned children, then as an apprentice to Halt, one of the most famous of the Rangers.

  In more recent years, Will’s fame had gone on to equal, or even surpass, that of his mentor, and the local people were proud that two such renowned figures lived in their fief. It set Redmont above the neighboring fiefs and the folk who lived there enjoyed sharing the reflected glory of the two illustrious Rangers.

  And now Maddie, who had been in the fief for the past four years, was adding her own achievements to those of the other two. Less than a year ago, she had foiled a plot to seize the throne of Araluen. And before that, she had assisted Will in unmasking and destroying a gang of kidnappers who had been carrying out their vile work on the east coast of the kingdom.

  All in all, there were plenty of reasons why the villagers might feel proud of their Rangers and glad to greet them as they passed by.

  They rode past Jenny’s restaurant. Jenny herself was sitting in the sun outside her establishment, drinking coffee and keeping an eye on her staff as they prepared the tables for the evening’s trading. She raised her cup to them as they passed, accompanying the gesture with a broad smile. She and Will had grown up together in the ward, and Jenny had helped him settle Maddie in when she had first arrived, a spoiled and self-centered princess who was badly in need of discipline.

  Will waved to his old friend, and glanced quizzically from her to the young girl riding beside him. How things had changed, he thought. These days, he would trust Maddie with his life—in fact, he had just done so when they had confronted Barton Bearkiller and his gang. Maddie sensed he was watching her and tilted her head in a question.

  “What?” she asked.

  But Will didn’t answer directly. She’d had enough praise lately, he thought, and he was never one to overdo that sort of thing. “I thought we might eat at Jenny’s tonight,” he said instead.

  Maddie nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “Should I ride over and ask her to keep a table for us?”

  Will shook his head. “She’ll always fit me in,” he said. “That’s one of the advantages of being an old wardmate.”

  At the top of the hill, they left the village and turned right into the narrow trail between the trees that led to their cabin. As they came closer, both horses began twitching their ears and sniffing the air.

  “They’re glad to be home,” Maddie observed.

  But Will disagreed. “There’s someone at the cabin,” he said. “They can scent whoever it is.”

  They emerged from the trees into the clearing around the cabin and Maddie saw that he was right. There was a small, shaggy horse standing by the tethering rail outside the cabin and a gray-and-green-cloaked figure was sitting on the verandah, legs stretched out, enjoying the sunshine. Their horses whinnied a greeting to the tethered horse and it responded.

  “It’s Halt,” Maddie said, recognizing his horse initially. Their visitor’s face wasn’t so easy to make out, as the shadow from the verandah roof fell over him, reaching down to shoulder level.

  “What’s he doing here?” Will said to himself. They rode up to the cabin and Halt rose to greet them as they came near.

  “Good morning,” he said cheerfully, although he was only just correct. Midday was only a few minutes away. He shook hands with Will as the younger man dismounted, then enveloped Maddie in a bear hug. Halt was very fond of his former apprentice’s apprentice. He had been instrumental in having Maddie selected for training as a Ranger—the first female Ranger in the history of the Corps. Seeing how well she had turned out, he felt his choice had been more than justified.

  “What brings you here?” Will asked when Halt had disengaged himself from the hug. Halt jerked his thumb at a black-and-white form sprawled on the end of the verandah in the sun—lying on her back with her rear legs splayed out and her forepaws folded back on themselves.

  “I thought you’d be home today, so I brought Sable down from the castle,” he said. While Maddie and Will had been hunting the market gang, as they had been known, Halt and Lady Pauline had taken care of Will’s dog. At the mention of her name, Sable�
�s tail thumped on the boards of the verandah several times. Otherwise, she made no movement at all.

  Will raised one eyebrow. “I could be overwhelmed by such a welcome,” he said. “Obviously she hasn’t missed us. I assume you’ve been spoiling her as usual?”

  Halt grinned. “Not me. Pauline.”

  His wife was fond of dogs in general and Sable in particular. Sable, sensing this, as dogs will, made a huge fuss of Lady Pauline whenever she saw her. As a result, Pauline was constantly giving her treats and patting her, rubbing her ears and her belly. When Sable stayed with Halt and Pauline, she became accustomed to this sort of treatment far too quickly. It usually took several days for Will to retrain her in what he considered to be proper dog behavior.

  “The stove’s lit and the coffee’s on,” Halt told him, and Will nodded his appreciation.

  Maddie stepped forward and took Tug’s bridle in one hand, Bumper’s in the other. “I’ll get the horses settled,” she said.

  Will unfastened his travel pack and bedroll from behind Tug’s saddle and slung them over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said. “We’ll pour you a coffee while you’re doing that.” He and Halt went inside while Maddie led the two horses to the stable at the rear of the cabin.

  They were nursing mugs of coffee, with another full mug waiting for Maddie, when she rejoined them. She added a heaped spoonful of honey to the steaming liquid and stirred it.

  Will gave her a pained look. “I already did that.”

  She shrugged. “You never put enough in,” she said, and tasted her drink. “Perfect.”

  Will shook his head. “Maybe that’s because I have to pay for the honey,” he muttered. Then he turned to Halt. “So what’s behind this visit? Other than the need to bring Sable back.”

  While they had been waiting for Maddie, they hadn’t discussed the reason Halt had been waiting for them. Instead, they had talked about inconsequential matters, with Will describing their encounter with the self-styled bear killer and his thugs.