“Sir Ross has requested to speak first,” the King said and the other knights nodded and turned their attention to Sir Ross.
The knight stood and spoke of his plan to send out a patrol to the land bordering Thornten. Some knights looked as if they wanted to argue, Sir Laster among them. But, in some unspoken rule, waited for Ross to finish his statement and resume his seat.
“King, what do you say?” rasped Sir Richard.
“I think that Sir Ross is right, we mustn’t underestimate Thornten. They have left us alone for some time and lulled us into this false sense of security. I’m hoping the Ranger can weigh in on this matter,” said the King, looking to the Ranger.
The hooded man nodded, rising to his feet, his sword hilt reflecting the fire. “I think that Sir Ross is right. But will these squires be able to lead a patrol if an enemy raiding party attacks? They might not be able to get back to the castle in time,” The Ranger’s voice was not the dangerous rasp Will had expected. It was smooth and calm, controlled. “With changes in my duties, I will be at the castle more. With that, I can help lead if the King wants me to.”
The Ranger sat and Will couldn’t help but notice how Sir Laster’s eyes bore into the hooded man, his face contorted with pure hatred. He only looked away when the King began to speak once more.
“Thank you, Ranger. I agree that would be best and was one of the fears I had as well. I think it best we keep two knights in each patrol of two squires, when possible. An occasional party of more squires and fewer knights is something we should avoid for the majority of our patrols.”
Sir Miller stood to speak and Will felt himself relax. After the earlier talk with Miller, he couldn’t help but like and trust the knight. “I will go out with the Ranger on a patrol tonight if we deem it necessary. Before I give an opinion on the squires being part of the patrol, I want to get the opinions of someone who might have the best insight to the squires’ thoughts,” He nodded at where Will sat and dropped down into his own seat. All eyes turned to the stunned squire.
“Well, Will, what say you?” asked the Ranger, his voice a low growl.
The tone sent a shiver through Will as he stood and spoke, nervously. “I think that Sir Ross and the Ranger have a good idea, but the snow will make it hard for any horse of Alamore’s and Thornten’s to make it through. By the time they get to the border, their horses will be exhausted from the ride.”
“True, but I wouldn’t put it past Thornten to have their own soldiers clear trails in the snow and hide them. Then they would arrive on fresh horses and it would be us with the worn animals and novice swordsmen,” snarled Sir Laster.
“Well then, we’ll make a path before they can. We can do that just as easily to the border and, once in the trees, the snow will be thin enough that it won’t exhaust the horses and we can still patrol,” said the Ranger, standing once again. “Unless, Sir Laster, it’s the idea of having to actually fight that has you so concerned.”
Sir Laster snarled at the hooded figure and leapt to his own feet. A hand flashed to the Ranger’s sword as if ready to draw it. One of Sir Laster’s hands was already gripping his own sword hilt. “You know very well if I cross paths with anyone from Thornten, I will kill them.”
The Ranger let out a derisive snort and Laster’s blade caught the light as he started to draw his weapon, face twisted with fury.
Sir Ross sprang to his feet, eyes flashing and pushed Sir Laster toward his chair. “That is enough,” he spun on the Ranger, teeth bared, “from both of you! This is a council of knights, not a duel to the death. If neither of you can hold your tempers, then get out and let us decide how best to defend a country.”
The Ranger pushed his sword back into its sheath, dropping silently back into his seat. Sir Laster did the same, his dark expression fixed on Ross, who ignored him before resuming his chair. Glancing around the room, Will saw that some of the knights looked taken aback with the outburst and others, like Sir Rockwood, had faint levels of anger in their eyes.
The King stood and spoke into an uncomfortable silence that had spread through the room. “I think the Ranger might have the right idea. We can hook the cart horses to a sleigh and have them driven along the path to the woods.”
The Ranger nodded and turned his head, the firelight-catching under his hood long enough for Will to see a stubbled jawline, the flash of blue eyes, and a cold expression on the shadowed face. The face didn’t seem old and yet, as the Ranger shifted again, and adjusted the hood, he felt as though the man had aged from his experiences in life. “I agree, King.”
Sir Laster spoke, every word held poorly concealed contempt. “I disagree with the Ranger; I think that we should just defend the castle. Let them wear thin their horses and men.”
Rockwood gave a cold laugh. “What and let Thornten take the lands that we so barely won back? Do as you please, Sir Laster, but I will help make the path for one,” he said.
The King stood, the knights following his lead. Will scrambled to his own feet. “Sir Laster, I will not order you to do one way or the other but my mind is decided. Meeting dismissed,” said the King. He turned and strode to the door, pulling it open and striding out of sight. Will stood back a moment and watched as, one by one, the knights left. The Ranger hung back as well, looking at Will. Soon they were the last people left in the meeting room and the hooded man stepped forward, blocking Will’s way to the door.
The Ranger looked down at Will, his face completely hidden in the darkness under his cloak. “So, you’re Will...,” said the Ranger. “I’m glad to finally meet you. I knew your father when I was younger.”
“You did?” Will asked, confused. How would this man, clearly so trusted by the King, know his father?
“Yes, for a time. I wanted you to know that I apologize that you had to see myself and Sir Laster lose our tempers. He and I never have been good friends,” continued the Ranger, “And we never shall be,” he laughed coldly.
“It’s fine,” Will muttered, looking away from the Ranger. He felt nervous again. He wasn’t sure he liked this man.
Without another word the Ranger turned and left the room, leaving Will to enter the squire chambers last and close the door to the knights’ council behind him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Will told his friends everything that had happened during the meeting, leaving out the last words from the Ranger. For some reason, he didn’t feel he wanted to share that his father knew the Ranger.
When Will was done talking, Colin spoke eagerly. “Well, it sounds like Sir Laster is not making himself very popular with the other knights and the Ranger.”
Rowan nodded but said nothing, his eyes unfocused with concentration.
“I need to get to bed,” said Will. His mind was reeling with the events of the day. Why hadn’t his father ever talked about the Ranger? How had he never met or seen the Ranger before if he had known his father?
Will soon fell asleep thinking how odd that the Ranger and Sir Laster seemed to hate each other so much. None of the other knights had shown nearly as much spite of the Ranger. It made no sense.
Will fell into a deep sleep, as the thoughts ran through his head and into his dreams, which were filled with the events of the evening.
The world was a blur of dark tunnel and smoke. He could hear someone running behind him, smell the stink of hot, warm, rotting, dead. Will felt his body being weighed down, sure something was trying to crush the air from his lungs. It was as though his bones were on the brink of snapping. The weight changed and he woke, gasping, still fighting for each breath and the rank smell following him into consciousness.
“Grot!” he gasped as the dog readjusted, closer to his throat, panting into his face. “You beast, get off of me!” The dog ignored his demands, yawning and his hot breath gagging the boy.
Will shoved with all of his strength, sliding himself free as the massive animal stretched across his bed, clearly pleased to get the entire mattress. The chamber was dark, quiet but for t
he breathing and soft snores of the other squires. Pulling on his boots, Will stood. If he was awake, he might as well walk out to his horse.
The dog was already snoring as he reached the end of the squire chamber, shivering slightly. “Bloody dog.”
The door to the squire chamber opened silently on greased hinges and he stepped into the dining hall, his eyes straining to adjust to the shafts of silver moonlight. As he stepped forward, something made him freeze, the hair standing on the back of his neck. He could hear someone coming down the entry hallway, the low hiss of voices.
His hand reached behind him in the dark, beginning to open the door once more, when the first person emerged and he caught his breath. Even in the near-impossible lighting, he could recognize the confident stride, the thick built muscles, and dark hair and beard. He didn’t need to see to know that the eyes were black, hard, and unreadable. His father was unmistakable.
The person next to him, in his black cloak, was unmistakable as well and Will found himself crouching, slinking silently toward the shadows under the long dining table where the knights generally sat and where the two men had stopped, standing some distance apart.
“I’ve told you, Marl, that it is unnecessary to approach the castle. I can guarantee nothing for you,” The Ranger growled.
Marl snorted derisively. “I understand the risk but do you think that I will just stand by and hear nothing? Plus, I am trying to bring news that will benefit you and your cause.”
The Ranger waved a hand as if to brush the words out of the air. “And what reasons do I have to believe you?”
“Because I have access to information you no longer have the privilege to.”
Will had reached the table and slid onto his stomach, holding his breath. He could feel the hostility between the two men as if it were a tangible thing in the room with them.
“Fine, Marl. I will take what you said under consideration but I don’t need it embellished. It was not smart for you to come here and this is a warning; don’t return to the castle again. Stay far away from here.”
“From my son?” Marl laughed darkly. “You would deprive a father that right? I must come here since it seems my son isn’t to return to me anymore.”
The Ranger seemed to physically recoil at the words before straightening himself, several inches taller than Marl. “You have no rights to anything in this castle. It’s time you left.”
A crash made both men and Will jump, Will turning in horror to see the grey form of Grot wagging his tail near him, a chair on its side behind him. He waved frantically for the dog to go, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.
The dog hesitated but then turned and trotted toward the Ranger, who had approached, hand on his hilt. “What was that?” Marl hissed; his voice laced with panic.
“A dog,” the Ranger replied, coolly, patting Grot’s massive head. “making enough noise to raise the dead. I think I shall show you out, Marl.”
The two men left, the dog on the Ranger’s heels, and Will relaxed again against the floor. He felt exhausted but wide awake. What was going on? How did Marl know the Ranger?
He may have laid there all night if not for another thrill of horror at the sound of the dog and the man coming down the hall once more. Scrambling out from under the table, he sprinted to the squire chambers and into his bed, pulling the blanket over himself just as the door opened and he heard someone enter. He could hear the slither of the Ranger’s cloak across the stone flags as he passed. Squeezing his eyes shut, Will forced himself to breathe evenly, not moving at all as the Ranger slowly passed in the other direction and the door clicked shut. He didn’t dare to even readjust, not even to pull off his boots, falling into an uncomfortable and confused sleep once more.
***
“Hey Will, come and eat we’re on the path patrol,” said Rowan proudly, as though tromping through freezing snow was the greatest honor they had ever had. He was slathering a piece of bread in the running yellow egg yolks on his plate.
Will took the seat beside him, filling his own plate. “Great,” He tried to keep his voice neutral but he was exhausted, his temples throbbing from a lack of sound sleep. Colin, across the table and engrossed in a letter he had received, looked up at him, brows furrowed.
Rowan looked at him as well, seeming to take in his disheveled appearance for the first time. “Thornten, Will. You look awful.”
Will laughed hoarsely. “I’ll be fine. Just need to eat so we can get to work.”
After that, he made sure he was preoccupied with his food as the other squires discussed their schedules for patrolling the border with the knight. Leaf, Novin, and Sir Miller were also in their first grouping, but no one had heard, yet, who the second knight to patrol with them would be.
When the other squires stood, Will pushed aside his plate with relief and followed them down the hallway. Thankfully, no one noted his silence now with Rowan’s excited chatter and Novin’s conversation about defensive riding with Colin.
When they stepped out, they found Sir Miller already waiting next to their saddled horses. To Will’s horror, he saw that the Ranger stood beside the young knight, holding the reins to his slight built black mare.
“Hurry up, boys, and get your horses. The Ranger and I have other things to attend to so we need to get this first patrol completed.”
Will swung himself into his saddle, glancing at the Ranger again. The Ranger, his face shadowed, was staring directly at him, even as Sir Miller explained that they were not to look for a combat situation, but rather make sure that there were no troops being sent toward the castle or the town below. Even as the others began to assemble, he could feel himself being watched.
“Rowan, I’ll ride by you if that’s okay,” Will said, steering his bay horse nearer to his friend.
Rowan shrugged. “I’m good with that.”
“No,” The Ranger said, breaking his silence. “Will and I will ride behind, Novin and Miller in front, and the last three in the middle.” Will saw the dangerous gleam in the eyes under the hood for one moment before the man’s face faded back into shadows. He felt sick. This could not be a coincidence.
The riders assembled, pushing their horses over the drawbridge and fighting their way through the deep snow beyond. No one had yet tried to push beyond the castle walls and Visra moved carefully to stay in the easier path, already forged by the five riders ahead. The squires in the middle were talking animatedly but the Ranger said nothing, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Will opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable tension but closed it again. If the Ranger didn’t know it was him, he didn’t want to give it away. He was worried he might let slip something about seeing Marl or asking out the Ranger knew him and…
“How much did you hear last night?” the Ranger said; his eyes still trained ahead.
Will felt a thrill of terror run through him, colder than the snow. The Ranger couldn’t know. “W-what do you mean?” Will stuttered, his voice giving away his panic.
“Don’t play stupid, Will, no squire sleeps in boots.”
The fear grew stronger as the Ranger’s hand gripped the sword hilt at his side. “I d-didn’t hear much of anything. Only what was said when you were in the dinner hall. Nothing from before you entered, I swear.”
The Ranger turned to look at him. “I recommend you not have me as an enemy, boy. I don’t have interest in killing you or fighting you or having to put up with you, honestly,” The Ranger lowered his voice to a dangerous hiss. “But should you tell a single soul, I will reconsider silencing you myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The Ranger snorted. “I am not a knight, don’t bother with the Sir. Just stay out of my way and keep your mouth shut,” with that, he spurred his horse foreword to close the gap that had grown between them and the rest of the group. Will watched the horse and rider for a moment, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He didn’t need his friends seeing him worried.
After a moment he urged Visra in
to a canter, lifting himself in the stirrups and letting the cold wind bite into his face and drive the last of his fear down. He wouldn’t tell his friends anything and there was nothing, really, to tell them. That his father knew the Ranger well enough to meet with him in the castle shouldn’t even surprise him. His father always was leaving to meet with people, telling Will not to ask questions or answer the door when strangers knocked late in the night. The Ranger could easily have been one of the cloaked men who had met Marl and left with him. He’d assumed, in past, they were the kind of acquaintances that dealt in stolen items and horses. Now he wondered if Marl’s dealings were in something more precious still; vital information to Alamore.
Visra suddenly halted, nearly throwing Will from the saddle as the large animal spun round, back toward the castle, ears pricked forward and muscles stiff. Straightening himself, Wil pulled on the reins, trying to turn the bay back toward the Ranger and their party.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 10
