Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1)

by C. J. R. Isely

  “Okay, we won’t sneak any wine,” Rowan muttered, red-faced. “Let’s just get something to eat.”

  In the squire chamber, another table had been set, this one smaller and down the center of the room, taking the majority of the space between beds. At the nearest end were the stack of plates and silverware, while the serving dishes lined the rest of the table. Vancely, Saget, Loper, and Airagon were seated on the floor between Saget and Loper’s beds, their mouths and plates full.

  “Can this just stay in here, full of food, forever?” Rowan asked, sighing in contentment as he grabbed a plate.

  “Will!” Loper waved to him, beaming. “I didn’t know you were getting out today!”

  “They needed the space,” Will explained, following Rowan along the table and heaping food onto his plate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the aroma of different dishes was wafting into his face. His stomach growled loudly.

  “When you three get served, join us!” Saget insisted, pressing his back against his bed. “Airagon, help me shove this bed over a tad, so there’s more room. Haru sleeps in the next bed and he’s not here so he doesn’t have a say.”

  Airagon put his plate aside and shoved his back against the bed as well. By the time that the other three squires joined them, the two beds were only a foot apart, giving everyone more than enough space to sit on the floor comfortably.

  “How many squires do they expect to put in here?” Colin asked, glancing at the lines of beds. “I don’t think it’s been full in ages here. I mean, not since before Miller was a knight probably,” he turned to Will, “We had a lot of younger knights come through for a while who were already heirs to an estate, like me and Rowan. So, we had a lot just come, train, and leave, and now we don’t have a lot of knights that live in Alamore or a lot of squires.”

  Will nodded in acknowledgement, his mouth too full of fresh bread and cheese to articulate a better response.

  “I’ve heard that Shadow Dale doesn’t have that problem,” Vancely said, quietly. “They had a lot of fighting between heirs for castles so now they send all heirs to Shadow Dale and leave it to their King to put younger sons into working under him, far away from their older brothers’ castles.”

  “If I was a younger brother, I’d prefer to live here,” Rowan said, shrugging. “But Vance, Saget, you both seem like the plotty murder type, should we be worried for your brothers?”

  Vancely laughed and Saget reached over to cuff Rowan in the back of the head. “I’d rather never run those lands,” Saget said, laughing, “all my father does all day is talk about agriculture and political aspects. My brother loves it. I’d rather go back and train the soldiers, or go between here and there as a knight of Alamore.”

  Will, leaning back against the bed behind him, looked between his friends, full and comfortable. His eyelids already felt heavy again, his body tired from even the small amount of movement he had done.

  A commotion in the dining hall caught all their attention. Colin set aside his plate, standing, and Loper followed his lead quickly. Before any of them could say a word, the door opened and Novin stepped in, his brown hair disheveled by the wind. “Did you miss me?” he grinned at their surprised faces. “Get your cloaks; Shadow Dale has just rode in.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Horses, humans, and carts full of supplies and dogs wagging muddy tails filled the courtyard and overflowed onto the drawbridge and the open spaces beyond. No sooner had the group appeared then Sir Laster was beside them, holding the reins of a large set of draft horses.

  “Take these to the barn around back. Everything should already be bedded down and have hay and water, but double-check. They need groomed down,” he growled, pushing the reins into Colin’s hand. “Collect the pulling animals as they are released from the wagons and do the same with them,” his eyes landed on Will and his brow furrowed. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Helping,” Will said, bracing himself for Laster’s typical deluge of insults.

  The knight snorted. “Damn healer is a fool, as are you. Broken ribs aren’t a joke, boy,” he turned, waving over a mud-splattered man leading more horses. “But, if you’re going to be here, be useful. Haru, stick with Will and see to it that he doesn’t kill himself with these animals. He broke a rib while you were away. If you don’t think you’ll be competent at it, don’t expect to ever have a squire.”

  Will stared. He hadn’t recognized Haru immediately. His broad-shouldered frame had lost weight, his hair was longer and his jaw stubbled from the journey. Under his eyes were dark shadows of exhaustion.

  The red-haired squire shot Laster a cold look but nodded before smiling at his fellow squires. “You’ll have to tell me how you managed to do that, Will,” Haru said, clapping him on the back.

  Will winced slightly and Haru’s face reddened with embarrassment. Laster rolled his eyes upwards. “Or just rebreak it,” he sighed and walked away.

  “It’s fine,” Will muttered as Colin and Rowan led away the first two horses and Haru passed his handful off between the other squires.

  Haru, face still red, grimaced. “I’m sorry, I completely didn’t think,” Will saw his eyes follow Laster through the crowd until he was out of sight. “I honestly don’t know how anyone stands that man.”

  “After being to a knights council,” Will said, grinning, “I’m not sure that they do.”

  Haru laughed and stepped forward to grab another set of pulling horses from a lanky, unfamiliar, knight. “We can take these, Dannix”

  The knight nodded, looking relieved. “I will send Treck back with more, once he’s got them unhooked.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Haru bowed his head toward the man, handing Will one of the two broad animals. “Let’s get them tended so I can get a bath. I’ve been dreaming about a hot bath for days now,” Haru said longingly.

  Will pulled the reins of the shaggy bay Shire horse, moving slowly through the masses until they reached the side of the castle and the empty track to the temporary stalls. Overhead, clouds were starting to take over the blue sky and the air was getting cold. Will shivered. He didn’t much like the idea of another heavy snow.

  “So,” Haru broke the silence, “how did you break your rib?”

  Will hesitated, biting his lip. “My father…turns out that he favors Thornten.”

  “What?” Haru stopped, mouth agape. “That’s too vague! I want to know what’s going on! I leave for a few weeks and you’re already on your feet from having a rib broken!”

  Will told Haru the story as they led the horses to the barn, groomed, and fed the two large animals. By the time they were done, Haru looked furious and was shaking his head. “I can’t believe he did that! What a piece of-”

  “Haru, watch your mouth,” both of them jumped as the Ranger passed the stall that they had been latching shut.

  “Keep creeping around like that…” Haru grumbled, darkly.

  The Ranger laughed. “Keep making threats and promises you don’t have the skill to carry out,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m sure it will go well as a knight. You can ask Laster for advice.”

  “You know,” Haru said, turning to Will. “There are days I like that man and respect his loyalty and there are others where he is a snide jerk,” he shrugged. “I’ve been a squire six years and it’s still the case.”

  Will reached over the stall to the bay he’d taken care of, pulling loose straw from its dark mane. “I’m never sure what to make of him,” he admitted.

  The sound of hooves approaching made Will and Haru turn. A boy, not much older than Will, was leading two horses toward them. One was another large shire, such a dark bay as to be nearly black. The other horse was slighter, a wide-eyed speckled grey with an arching neck, prancing sideways. The boy between them had pale brown hair, freckles, and a slightly pointed face.

  “Haru,” he bowed his head toward the older squire politely. “Sir Dannix said you’d tell me where to put these two,” the boy’s wor
ds were clipped with his accent and Will noticed his eyes dart toward him nervously.

  Haru grinned. “Of course, Treck. Will, this is Treck. He’s Sir Dannix’s squire and the nephew of King Giltor of Shadow Dale.”

  Treck bowed his head again, this time toward Will. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well,” Will held out a hand, “I can take one of them if you’d like.”

  The boy nodded. “That would be great. The big one is nice enough but my Resa is just a little too hot to be led with others,” as if to prove his point the grey put his head over the stall of the horse that Will had just tended, pinned his ears, and struck the wooden door with one shod hoof.

  “Looks like he has an attitude problem and no idea that he’s tiny,” Haru said, laughing. “I’m going to let you two get them put up and I’ll bring back a few more.” He patted Will’s shoulder, far more gently than before, and wove his way between horses and people toward the door.

  “So, you’re a squire too?” Treck asked.

  “Yeah,” Will took the large horse’s lead and pulled. The animal took a reluctant step forward. “I’m not assigned to a knight yet, though.”

  Treck nodded, falling into step beside Will as they moved into two empty stalls and tied their horses. “I heard there’s others here like that,” he leaned the against fence panel separating the two horses and lowered his voice. “I heard there’s even tunnel people in this castle,” he whispered, wide-eyed. “Like the murderous ones from under the castle are now in it, training among you all.”

  Will thought of Airagon. He had to get tired of all the rumors that abounded about him and his background. Will knew he was getting sick of it. “Yes,” his voice came out colder than he had intended. “But not all are murderous, some people are born into the wrong circumstance and just need a chance to escape it.”

  Treck raised his eyebrows. “You really believe that?”

  Marl’s face, twisted with anger, flashed through his mind. “Yes,” he said firmly. He wasn’t sure he liked this boy. He turned his back toward Treck, fishing in his pocket for the hoof pick that he had used on the prior horse. The horse groaned tiredly as he lifted its large hoof and began to clean it.

  “You ever meet any of the royalty from Thornten?” Treck asked.

  Will, his back still to the other squire, squeezed his eyes closed for a moment to collect his composure. “Yes,” he said and put the hoof down, moving to the next one, “at Phersal.”

  “You were at Phersal too!” Treck asked, admiringly.

  “Yes, I get assigned to the Ranger as a squire pretty often,” the horse tried to move its leg off of Will’s own and he had to struggle to hold on for a moment. The draft horse was clearly over working and more intent on the grain it could hear being dumped into buckets. “Hold still, you brute,” Will grumbled. “You won’t starve, I promise.”

  Will was putting the last large foot on the ground when Colin and Rowan stepped into the stall, Rowan shaking snowflakes from his hair like a dog. Will groaned. “Snowing again?”

  Rowan scowled. “And it’s coming down fast.”

  Will straightened and looked out the window at the back of the stall. Sure enough, snow was falling in large clumps as the wind started to pick up speed.

  “Does it snow here a lot?” Treck asked, coming back to the fence between stalls.

  “This is a particularly bad winter,” Colin said, grimacing. “We are getting a ton of snow.”

  Treck shrugged. “We get a lot in the mountains around the castle. It’s something we train in and everything. Dannix mentioned that he’s worried how Alamore soldiers and knights will be able to handle fighting in cold.”

  “And who, exactly, are you?” Rowan said rudely. Will could see Rowan’s lips pressing into a thin line; a sign that his temper was rising.

  “I’m Treck, Sir Dannix’s squire and King Giltor’s nephew,” the boy bowed his head again, seemingly oblivious to Rowan’s annoyance.

  “Nice to meet you, Treck,” Colin, shot Rowan a stern look. “I am Colin and this is Rowan.”

  “How many times has Sir Dannix actually been to Alamore?” Rowan asked and Colin’s eyes rolled to the ceiling.

  Will, pretending to be busy untangling the horse’s mane, watched Treck’s eyebrows furrow slightly. He had evidently caught the cold tone in Rowan’s voice this time. “A few times,” he said, his tone harder.

  “Rowan, knock it off,” Colin snapped. “Treck, allow me to apologize for this one.”

  “I haven’t done anything to apologize for yet!” Rowan protested, throwing his hands into the air.

  The large horse shied sideways, wide eyes on Rowan. Will snorted with laughter. “Rowan! You’re scaring this beast and if it rebreaks my rib, I’ll set Sir Laster on you.”

  “Ribs are made to be broken!” Rowan said, shrugging.

  “And that shows the logic of Alamore squires really well,” Colin said dryly.

  Treck laughed, patting his grey on the shoulder. “I have heard that you have some of the best swordsmen in this castle. Sir Ross, and the Ranger.”

  “Sir Ross is my knight,” Colin said proudly.

  Treck grinned. “Care to practice tomorrow morning with me, then? I’m pretty good with the staff and spear but I need some work with the sword and Sir Dannix is King Giltor’s head advisor, so he’s going to be a bit preoccupied.”

  “Of course, you can train with us!” Colin offered.

  Will heard Rowan’s quiet groan and silently agreed with his friend. Treck was already on his nerves. He grimaced at Rowan as he stomped to his side to help untangle the mane. Across the stall, Colin and Treck were now talking about their training tactics.

  “Seems stuck up,” Rowan whispered, breaking dried mud out of the horse’s black hair.

  “A bit,” Will admitted.

  The horse stomped its hoof impatiently. “I’m hungry too,” Rowan told the massive animal. “Will, I’ll get it some grain, then let’s get inside. Rockwood already sent Haru back to the castle to wash up, so I can’t imagine it will be that long until dinner.”

  Will nodded. “Thanks. I just have to finish this part of the mane and I think this beast is done.”

  Will had finished untangling the mane by the time Rowan returned, dumping a large scoop of grain into the trough. The horse turned his body back and forth, trying to reach the food as Will struggled to untie the halter. “Hold on,” Will growled. “You are kind of being a pain.”

  “I got it,” Colin offered, breaking away from his conversation to help Will. “You and Rowan can head toward the castle. Treck and I will wrap up here.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan said before Will could reply, and grabbed Will’s arm, pulling him from the stall. “I am going to start eating the grain if we don’t get fed soon.”

  Will laughed. “A little hungry?”

  “Hungry is an understatement! What are the chances that we will have dessert you think? Good because we have guests? Or bad, because we have guests?” Rowan asked seriously.

  “Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Will asked, grinning.

  They had reached the end of the barn alleyway and were passing the last stalls. Sir Ross stepped from one, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Will slowed, curious. He had not seen Sir Ross since they had come back. Wasn’t it supposed to have been Sir Ross that came to speak with him in the healing chambers? Not the Ranger? Even if he had felt that the Ranger could explain things better, why had he not even stopped by to see Will? The majority of the other knights had.

  The thoughts were driven from Will’s mind as a figure stepped from the next stall. He was thin-faced, his brown hair longer and a dark shadow of stubble lined his jaw. Even so, Will stopped, his heart in his throat. He had heard that the Thornten squire was at the castle but he’d thought he was under lock and key, brought forward only for the knights’ council meetings. Ross, noticing Will, looked surprised. “Shouldn’t you be in the healing quarters?”


  “Shouldn’t he,” Rowan demanded, gesturing to the young man, “be in chains in someplace dark and cold?”

  “Watch your mouth, Rowan,” Ross snapped. “When you’re a knight, you can have an opinion.”

  Rowan opened his mouth to protest then seemed to think better of it and shrugged, a brooding look on his face.

  “The healer said he would need the bed when the Shadow Dale delegation arrived,” Will said. He forced himself not to even look at the Thornten squire. He couldn’t help agreeing with Rowan. Airagon was one thing, he had been willing to change as soon as he was given the chance. This squire had watched Marl beat him with the flat of a blade and done nothing.