Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1)

by C. J. R. Isely

  He slowed for a moment and Will took advantage of the hesitation to pull the reins, hard. He knew as soon as he did so that he had moved too quickly again. Startled by the sudden pressure of the bit in his mouth, Visra halted and raised himself into a low rear that had Will scrambling for the mane once more.

  By the time Visra was on all fours again, the boy from the tunnel had reached him, jogging his pony close slowly. “Easy does, boy,” the boy crooned to Will’s horse. “Easy,” In the same level voice, the boy then addressed Will. “Go ahead and slowly lift just your left rein, there, perfect.”

  Will had done so and Visra turned his head without moving his body, resting his nose against Will’s boot.

  “Great, now slowly do that on the other side then let him have his head and just make him stand.”

  Will followed the orders, amazed with how the horse relaxed with the simple exercise. “Where did you learn that?”

  The boy grinned. “I’ve worked horses before. Not much but the tunnel used to have some exits outside of the castle. I used to sneak out and work with a man who trained horses in town.”

  Will laughed shakily. “Well, I’m glad you did. Thank you.”

  “No problem,” The boy hesitated, then smiled slightly. “Airagon.”

  “Airagon?” Will asked, confused.

  “That’s my name.”

  Smiling, Will nodded slowly. “I like that better than boy.”

  “Will!” Rowan and Colin had reached the inside rail of the fence that Visra had just jumped, both a little pale.

  “I’m fine. Airagon helped me get him settled down,” Will called, turning the horse to face them.

  “And a damn good job of that he did, too,” Rockwood said. He had walked toward them and now leaned on the fence between the two chests of Rowan and Colin’s horses. “Airagon, we might need to get you something a bit better than that pony.”

  Airagon shrugged. “I’m happy with Stag.”

  “Yes, but Stag is a bit small for you. I’ll see what strings I can pull to get another horse here,” He patted Colin’s horse’s neck. “But for now, walk these horses out. We can get some further training done at a later time but you’ve got a feel for how they ride. Let’s get some dagger practice in and, perhaps, some archery. Colin, you’re stuck with me. Ross had to return to the castle a few minutes ago to cover matters with the King.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sore, tired, and covered with sweat and snow, Will, Rowan, and Colin stepped into the entry hall and were engulfed in the smells of food and the warmth of the fire burning in the nearest hearth.

  “Ah, I’m starving!” groaned Rowan. “And dinner isn’t even ready yet!” he shook the snow out of his hair like a dog. Over the last hour, they had been shooting arrows with numb hands at targets that were hard to see through thick and fast-falling snow. Rockwood, as if channeling Ross, had told them to deal with it as they wouldn’t have a chance to pick battle conditions and they were behind anyhow.

  Not wanting to track his soaked boots through the hall, Will moved to the large fireplace that warmed the hall and crouched down beside it, holding his hands toward the flames. “I’m pretty hungry myself.”

  Rowan and Colin joined him, Rowan sprawling onto his back with a sigh. “I bet it’ll be a borderline feast. They generally do that when it’s the first real snow.”

  Colin groaned and readjusted how he was seated. “I don’t care, I just want to eat and then get in bed. My muscles are killing.”

  They sank into silence, watching the fire rise and fall around the lumber. Will’s mind kept showing him the fire in the tunnel. He wanted to know more. Airagon seemed to be slow to trust them but he was getting there. If he could tell Will why those people were down there, why they seemed to hate Alamore…

  We almost died. We almost died. He felt his jaw tighten as the thought repeated itself. No one had died or even a sustained long-lasting injury, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking of the fight in the tunnel. Was he ever going to be ready to be a knight? If this was so heavy on his mind, how could he be ready for battles and working for Alamore?

  “You three may want to get to the feast, it’s about to start,” Will started in surprise, looking up to see a snow-covered Sir Miller smiling down at them. It was the first time Will had been near him since the battle in the tunnel and he seemed to take in the man’s appearance once more. Average height, with a broad-shouldered build and curly black hair, he remembered that Sir Miller was the youngest knight. A dark shadow had grown over his jaw in the past few days and matched the shadows under his eyes.

  They climbed to their feet and Rowan darted ahead excitedly. Colin shook his head but still broke into a half jog. Will tensed to follow, then hesitated, looking up at the knight.

  “Sir Miller?”

  “Yes, Will?”

  He gnawed on his lip for a moment, unsure how to phrase his question. “When – When do you get used to the fighting?”

  The knight gripped his shoulder for a brief moment. “That tunnel still on your mind?”

  “I guess it has been, just a bit,” Will lied.

  “Well, I don’t honestly know when that happens. Or even if it happens, for that matter,” he looked Will straight in the eye, dark brown seeming to search the blue. “It’s been on my mind but I think you learn to get better at coping, at realizing you did what you did to survive as much as win, and you get really used to surviving. I know you’re not from the page background, but you’re not behind in that aspect, Will. You’ve seen more violence in this first leg of your squire hood as most squires will see in their entire time before knighting,” He patted Will on the back. “But you will see a new level of violence if I don’t get to dinner. I pulled the earliest scouting this morning and haven’t had a bite to eat in hours, so let’s get into the dinner hall.”

  Feeling slightly better and slightly confused, Will nodded and the two followed Rowan and Colin. Sir Miller made toward the long table in the center of the hall and Will turned left, walking toward the round table where the squires were already starting to fill their plates. Rowan and Colin had saved him the seat between them, as well as starting to serve him everything in sight.

  “I don’t need this much,” Will laughed, sitting down and staring at his plate, heaped high with bread, beef, potatoes, a turkey leg, a cooked green of some sort, and he didn’t even know what else underneath it.

  “Sure, you do! You’re too skinny and small and you need to just eat,” Rowan ordered, which Will found ironic considering that the wiry squire was by far the thinnest built.

  He shrugged, starting in on his food and listening as the squires whispered about the Battle of Bronswick, which had taken place a few weeks before Will’s own arrival. He’d heard it discussed some in town at the time, mostly that it had cost a fair number of lives considering how quickly it had happened.

  “Bronswick could have won without us if they weren’t always acting the victim anyway,” Haru stated bluntly, passing a plate full of potatoes to Airagon. “But they always think that they are the target of everyone’s attacks. And they are, but it’s because they make themselves weak. They hadn’t even tried to arm all their men until most of the small parties they sent out were slaughtered. They couldn’t pull it together to send out a decent number to take Thornten head-on.”

  “My father always says that Bronswick should have folded into another country. They just know they have good resources with their land and it makes them think they’re a big deal,” Rowan added.

  Haru nodded in solemn agreement. “Your father’s a smart man.”

  “William!” Will turned at the sound of his name and saw Sir Don, shaggy dirty-blonde hair falling into his face, was waving him over-enthusiastically.

  “Go! Tell us if they tell you anything interesting!” Rowan hissed and pushed his shoulder.

  Will stood, walked to the table, and took the chair that Don had pushed out next to himself. “How is squire hood treating you?” Sir Don as
ked.

  “It is amazing,” Will said. “I still have a hard time believing I’m really a squire.”

  Sir Don chuckled. “Understandably so! You joined us under unusual circumstances. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. The boy from the tunnel, what’s his name?”

  “Airagon.”

  Sir Don nodded, running a hand over his well-shaped beard. “What are your thoughts on him, Will?”

  “He’s nice, and has a way with horses too,” he hesitated, unsure how much he was allowed to voice his opinion. But Sir Don had called him over, so his opinion had to mean something. “I think he would make a good squire himself, given the chance. In the tunnel, you saw how he fought.”

  “That was what I’ve been thinking, watching him. It has been brought up in our council of knights, and I wanted your thoughts. You have a different view from those boys who are from page backgrounds,” said Sir Don. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  The knights around them began to stand and Will looked toward the door to see the King as he entered. He followed the lead of the knights and watched as the King limped in, accompanied by a man in a hood, a sword swinging at his side. A shiver ran through him as the hood turned toward him. It was impossible to make out the features of the face below but he was sure that he was being watched. The hooded man made him uneasy.

  “Who is that with the King?” he whispered to Sir Don, eyes still following the figure as he took the seat beside the King. The knights and Will sank back into their seats once more.

  “He is called the Ranger or the Ranger of Kings. He comes and goes. Hardly ever takes off his hood,” said Sir Don. He grinned as Sir Ross headed their way.

  “Hello Will, how are you?” Ross asked, looking at Will.

  “I’m pretty good,” answered Will.

  “Pull up a chair, why don’t you?” Sir Don pushed out a chair to Ross who nodded and sat down, turning toward the other knight. Will had the distinct impression that Sir Ross didn’t want to look at him and was even uneasy with their proximity.

  “Don, I need to talk to you about something,” said Ross.

  “Well go ahead.”

  “The King is not fully healed and there is a threat of attack from Thornten. I wanted to get your opinion on doubling the border patrol. If word gets out that he’s not well, it would be just like them to attack.”

  “It’s freezing out and we already have most the knights on rotation. If we start doubling them up, we’re risking people getting sick,” Don said doubtfully.

  “But maybe we can stretch the numbers with squires-” Sir Ross stopped and raised his head to watch the door as a small boy ran in, a bandage wrapped around his head. The boy, probably around seven or eight, darted to the King, who leaned down to hear what the boy had to say. A sad smile lifted the corners of Ross’s mouth as he watched the boy beam up at the King, who was chuckling, patting him on the back.

  “Who is the boy?” asked Will.

  “He’s the King’s page boy. His name’s Mark. He’s good with animals of all shapes and sizes,” said Ross. Though he was addressing Will, he still seemed to avoid meeting Will’s eyes. “He has a lot in common with your Airagon friend,” he unconsciously ran a hand over his wrist. He shook himself, seeming to realize Will was still watching him. He scowled. “Tunnel. I guarantee your new friend has the brand on his wrist just like little Mark over there does. The tunnel people are barbaric.”

  Sir Don cleared his throat loudly, raising his eyebrows at Ross “Well, since Novin is my squire, I could ask him to lead the other squires to the Thornten border, but I’m not ordering him to,” he said, his manner clearly one of changing the subject.

  “No, I don’t think you should order him. Colin could lead another patrol if he wants. He’s starting to learn to trust in his sword, not just his head,” growled Ross standing up, stretching. “The other reason I’m here is that the King would like a word, Will.”

  “T-t-the King?” Will stuttered.

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” the knight snapped.

  Will stood up, the sounds of the dinner hall fading behind the pounding of his heart in his ears, and walked toward the King. As he reached the King’s side and the man turned to him, Will stooped into a low bow. “Stand up, William,” The King ordered; his powerful voice was soft with the small smile on his mouth. “Sir Don spoke with you, I take it, about the boy from the tunnel?”

  “Yes, your highness.”

  The King waved away the title. “King works fine, boy,” with that, the King stood and smiled down at him. “Would you gather my knights? Tell them I would like to meet with the council. Additionally, I would like you to join us. Mark, will you give him a hand?”

  The page, Mark, looked at Will as the King walked away. “So, you’re Will? I’ve heard of you. You are the squire who came from town?” Will nodded and Mark smiled. “Well, I’ll start getting the knights together then. I think Rowan and Colin are trying to get your attention.”

  Will turned to see that Rowan was bouncing up and down in his seat, waving at him to join them. “Are you sure, Mark?”

  “Certainly so! Just be fast because Sir Laster will not let you hear the end of it if you’re the last one into the council room.”

  Will jogged to Rowan and Colin, putting his hands on the back of Rowan’s chair and tipping it to make him start in surprise. “You are ridiculous, Rowan!” he stated, dropping the chair back to all four legs again.

  “Did I hear that right? Did you just get invited into the council tonight?” Rowan whispered.

  Will grinned. “Yeah, I did!”

  “You lucky dog. Let us know what you hear?” asked Colin.

  “I will,” Will replied. “But I better go, I don’t want to be late.”

  With that, he turned and started toward where the King was entering the side door that led to the squire chambers.

  He followed the King in the squires’ long and narrow room, walking behind the man as they approached the door at the end of the room. The door that he had been told, repeatedly, they were not allowed through. It had struck him as strange and even now he found himself opening his mouth to ask the King why it was at the end of their chambers. But, one look at the King’s face, drawn with pain from his injuries, made his nerves choke his curiosity.

  The King opened a door and stepped through. The room they entered was strangely shaped, with two straight walls, including the one with the door, and the outside-facing wall large and curved, clearly part of the bottom of one of the towers. Chairs lined the edges of the curved wall and a fire danced in the large fireplace along the straight wall to the door’s left. Before the fire lay two large wolfhounds, who lifted golden-eyed faces and stood to greet them.

  The King moved toward the chairs but Will stood frozen as the dogs continued to approach him. They were massive and the idea of them lunging had his heart hammering once more. They sniffed his boots loudly before one rose on his hind legs and rested his front paws on Will’s shoulders. He felt his muscles fighting his mind as he made himself stand still. The dog leaned forward and licked the side of his face, its tail finally wagging.

  “Chon, Grot, leave him alone. Come here!” the two dogs ran to where the King sat. Their tails wagged merrily now and the threateningly silent animals now seemed as friendly as puppies. “Take a seat, Will,” requested the King itching Grot’s ear.

  Will chose a chair closer to the door to his chambers and sat. As soon as he had, the door flew open and twelve knights entered. Sir Ross walked to the King and sat on his right side. Rockwood sat next to Ross. Sir Laster sat several seats away from Rockwood who was determinedly not looking at him. Will thought of the shadow of anger that had crossed Sir Rockwood when he and Sir Laster had met in the barn after the battle in the tunnels.

  The knights Will hadn’t met stopped by him on their way to their seats to introduce themselves. He met Sir Richard, a bearded, brown hair knight with a lined face. Sir Bane who had wild black eyes and hair to match, tie
d back in a ponytail. Sir Henry, tall and slender with a grey streak in his dark hair.

  They all sat in silence after introducing themselves, watching the King expectantly.

  “We’re waiting for the Ranger,” said the King as if in answer to their unasked question. Sir Laster snorted derisively but, other than that, none of the knights made a sound in answer.

  Then the door opened and bounced off the wall, and the hooded Ranger entered. He said nothing, closing the door and taking his seat without acknowledgement of anyone in the room.

  “Now we can start the meeting,” said the King.

  The Ranger sat and pulled his hood lower as if to make sure no one could see his face.