Ranger's Apprentice 1 & 2 Bindup (30 page)

BOOK: Ranger's Apprentice 1 & 2 Bindup
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‘Take a look,' he said briefly and Will unfolded the paper, revealing a clumsily drawn map with reference points, directions and distances all indicated.

‘They've buried their loot, by the look of this,' he said and Gilan nodded, smiling thinly.

‘Good. Then without their map, they won't be able to find it again,' he said, and Carney's eyes shot wide open in protest.

‘But that's ours …' he began, stopping as he saw the dangerous glint in Gilan's eyes.

‘It was stolen,' the Ranger said, in a very low voice. ‘You crept in like jackals and stole it from people who are obviously in deep trouble. It's not yours. It's theirs. Or their family's, if they're still alive.'

‘They're still alive,' said a new voice from behind them. ‘They've run from Morgarath – those he hasn't already captured.'

If she hadn't spoken, they would have taken her for a boy. It was the soft voice that gave her away. She stood at the edge of the camp site, a slender figure with blonde hair cut short – to a boy's length – dressed in a ragged tunic, breeches and soft leather boots, bound up to the knee. A stained and torn sheepskin vest seemed to be her only protection against the cold mountain nights for she wore no cloak and carried no blankets. Just a small bandanna tied into a bundle which, presumably, contained all her belongings.

‘Where the devil did you spring from?' Gilan asked, turning to face her. He sheathed his saxe knife as he did so and allowed Carney to fall gratefully to his knees, exhausted.

The girl, who Will could now see was around his own age and, underneath a liberal coating of dirt, remarkably pretty, gestured vaguely.

‘Oh …' She paused uncertainly, trying to gather her
thoughts, and Will realised she was close to the point of exhaustion. ‘I've been hiding out in the hills for several weeks now,' she said finally. Will had to admit she looked as if she had been.

‘Do you have a name?' asked Gilan, not unkindly. He too could see the girl was worn out.

She hesitated. She appeared uncertain as to whether to give them her name or not.

‘Evanlyn Wheeler, from Greenfield Fief,' she said. Greenfield was a small coastal fief in Araluen. ‘We were here visiting friends …' She stopped and looked away from Gilan. She seemed to be thinking for a second, before she amended the statement. ‘Rather, my mistress was visiting friends, when the Wargals attacked.'

‘Wargals!' Will said, the word jerked from him, and she turned a level pair of brilliant green eyes upon him. As he looked into them, he realised she was more than pretty. Much, much more. She was beautiful. The strawberry blonde hair and green eyes were complimented by a small, straight nose and a full mouth that Will thought would look quite delightful if she were smiling. But right now, a smile was a long way from the girl's thoughts. She gave a sad little lift of her shoulders as she answered him.

‘Where did you think all the people have gone?' she asked him. ‘Wargals have been attacking towns and villages throughout this part of Celtica for weeks now. The Celts couldn't stand against them. They were driven out of their homes. Most of them escaped to the South-West Peninsula. But some were captured. I don't know what's happened to them.'

Gilan and the two boys exchanged looks. Deep down, they'd all been expecting to hear something of the kind. Now, it was out in the open.

‘I thought I saw Morgarath's hand behind all this,' Gilan said softly and the girl nodded, tears forming in her eyes. One of them slid down her cheek, tracking its way through the grime there. She put a hand to her eyes, and her shoulders began to shake. Quickly, Gilan stepped forward and caught her just before she fell. He lowered her gently to the ground, leaning her against one of the rocks that the boys had positioned around the fireplace. His voice was gentle and compassionate now.

‘It's all right,' he said to her. ‘You're safe now. Just rest here and we'll get you something hot to eat and drink.' He glanced quickly at Horace. ‘Get a fire going, please, Horace. Just a small one. We're fairly sheltered here and I think we can risk it. And Will,' he added, raising his voice so that it carried clearly, ‘if that bandit makes another move to get away, would you mind shooting him through the leg?'

Carney, who had taken the opportunity created by Evanlyn's surprising appearance to begin crawling quietly away towards the surrounding rocks, now froze where he was. Gilan threw an angry glare at him, then revised his orders.

‘On second thoughts, you do the fire, Will. Horace, tie those two up.'

The two boys moved quickly to the tasks he had set them. Satisfied that everything was in hand, Gilan now removed his own cloak and wrapped it around the girl. She had covered her face with both hands and her shoulders
were still shaking, although she made no noise. He put his arms around her and murmured gently, reassuring her once more that she was safe.

Gradually, her silent, racking sobs diminished and her breathing became more regular. Will, engaged in heating a pot of water for a hot drink, looked at her in some surprise as he realised that she'd fallen asleep. Gilan motioned for silence and said quietly:

‘She's obviously been under a great strain. It's best to let her sleep. You might prepare one of those excellent stews that Halt taught you to make. ‘

In his pack, Will carried a selection of dried ingredients that, when blended together in boiling water and simmered, resulted in delicious stews. They could be augmented by any fresh meat and vegetables that the travellers picked up along the way but, even without them, they made a far tastier meal than the cold rations the three had been eating that day.

He set a large bowl of water over the fire and soon had a delicious beef stew simmering and filling the cold evening air with its scent. At the same time, he produced their dwindling supply of coffee and set the enamel pot full of water in the hot embers to the side of the main fire. As the water bubbled and hissed to boiling point, he lifted the lid of the pot with a forked stick and tossed in a handful of grounds. Soon the aromatic scent of fresh coffee mingled with the stew and their mouths began to water. Around the same time, the savoury smells must have penetrated Evanlyn's consciousness. Her nose twitched delicately, then those startling green eyes flicked open. For a second or two, there was alarm in them as she tried to remember
where she was. Then she caught sight of Gilan's reassuring face and she relaxed a little.

‘Something smells awfully good,' she said and he grinned at her.

‘Perhaps you could try a bowlful and then tell us what's been going on in these parts.' He made a sign to Will to fill an enamel bowl with the stew. It was Will's own bowl, as they didn't have any spare eating utensils. His stomach growled as he realised he'd have to wait until Evanlyn had finished before he could eat. Horace and Gilan, of course, simply helped themselves.

Evanlyn began wolfing down the savoury stew with an enthusiasm that showed she hadn't eaten in days. Gilan and Horace also set to quite happily. A whining voice came from the far rock wall, where Horace had tied the two bandits, sitting them back to back.

‘Can we have something to eat, sir?' asked Carney. Gilan barely paused between mouthfuls and threw a disdainful glance at them.

‘Of course not,' he said, and went back to enjoying his dinner.

Evanlyn seemed to realise that, aside from the bandits, only Will wasn't eating. She glanced down at the plate and spoon she was holding, looked at the identical implements being used by Gilan and Horace, and seemed to realise what had happened.

‘Oh,' she said, looking apologetically at Will, ‘would you like to …?' She offered the enamel plate to him. Will was tempted to share it with her, but realised that she must be nearly starving. In spite of her offer, he could see that she was hoping he'd refuse. He decided that there was a
difference between being hungry, which he was, and starving, which she was, and shook his head, smiling at her.

‘You go ahead,' he said. ‘I'll eat when you've finished.'

He was a little disappointed when she didn't insist, but went back to wolfing down great spoonfuls of the stew, pausing occasionally for a deep draught of hot, freshly brewed coffee. As she ate, it seemed that a little colour returned to her cheeks. She cleaned the plate and looked wistfully at the stewpot still hanging over the fire. Will took the hint and ladled out another healthy dollop of stew and she set to once again, hardly pausing to breathe. This time, when the plate was empty, she smiled shyly and handed it back to him.

‘Thanks,' she said simply and he ducked his head awkwardly.

‘S'all right,' he mumbled, filling the plate again for himself. ‘I suppose you were pretty hungry.'

‘I was,' she agreed. ‘I don't think I've eaten properly in a week.'

Gilan hitched himself into a more comfortable position by the small fire they kept burning. ‘Why not?' he asked. ‘I would have thought there was plenty of food left in the houses? You could have taken some of that?'

She shook her head, her eyes showing the fear that had gripped her for the previous few weeks. ‘I didn't want to risk it,' she said. ‘I didn't know if there'd be more of Morgarath's patrols around, so I didn't dare go into any of the towns. I found a few vegetables and the odd piece of cheese in some of the farmhouses, but precious little else.'

‘I think it's time you told us what you know about events here,' Gilan told her and she nodded agreement.

‘Not that I know too much. As I said, I was here with …my mistress, visiting … friends.' Again, there was just the slightest hesitation in her words. Gilan frowned slightly, noticing it.

‘Your mistress is a noble lady, I take it? A knight's wife, or perhaps a lord's wife?'

Evanlyn nodded. ‘She is daughter to … Lord and Lady Caramorn of Greenfield Fief,' she said quickly. But again there was that fleeting hesitation. Gilan pursed his lips thoughtfully.

‘I've heard the name,' he said. ‘Can't say I know them.'

‘Anyway, she was here visiting a lady of King Swyddned's court – an old friend – when Morgarath's force attacked.'

Gilan frowned once more. ‘How did they accomplish that?' he wanted to know. ‘The cliffs and the Fissure are impassable. You couldn't get an army down the cliffs, let alone across the Fissure.'

The cliffs rose from the far side of the Fissure to form the boundary between Celtica and the Mountains of Rain and Night. They were sheer granite, several hundred metres in height. There were no passes, no way up or down – certainly not for large numbers of troops.

‘Halt says no place is ever really impassable,' Will put in. ‘Particularly if you don't mind losing lives in the attempt.'

‘We ran into a small party of Celts escaping to the south,' the girl said. ‘They told us how the Wargals managed it. They used ropes and scaling ladders and came down the cliffs by night, in small numbers. They found a few narrow ledges, then used the scaling ladders to cross the Fissure.

‘They picked the most remote spot they could find, so they went undetected. During the day, those already across the Fissure hid among the rocks and valleys until they had the entire force assembled. They wouldn't have needed many. King Swyddned didn't keep a large standing army.'

Gilan made a disapproving sound and caught Will's eye.

‘He should have. The treaty obliged him to. But remember what we said about people growing complacent? Celts would rather dig in their ground than defend it.' He gestured for the girl to continue.

‘The Wargals overran the countryside, concentrating on the mines in particular. For some reason, they wanted the miners alive. They killed anyone else.

Gilan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Pordellath and Gwyntaleth are both totally deserted,' he said. ‘Any idea where the people might have gone?'

‘A lot of the people in the towns got away in time,' she told him. ‘They'll have headed south. The Wargals seem to be driving them that way.'

‘Makes sense, I suppose,' Gilan commented. ‘Keeping them bottled up in the south would prevent word getting out to Araluen.'

‘That's what the captain of our escort said,' Evanlyn agreed. ‘King Swyddned and most of his surviving army retreated to the south-west coast to form a defensive line. Any Celts who managed to get away from the Wargals have joined him there.'

‘And what about you?' Gilan wanted to know.

‘We were trying to escape back to the border when we were cut off by a war party,' she told them. ‘Our men held
them off while my lady and I escaped. We were almost clear but her horse stumbled and they caught her. I wanted to go back for her but she screamed at me to get away. I couldn't … I wanted to help her but …I just …'

Tears began to cascade down her cheeks once more. She didn't seem to notice, making no attempt to wipe them away, just staring silently into the fire as the horror of it all came back to her. When she spoke once more, her voice was almost inaudible.

‘I got clear and I turned back to watch. They were … they were …I could see them …' Her voice died away. Gilan reached forward and took her hand.

‘Don't think about it,' he said gently and she looked up at him, gratitude in her eyes. ‘I take it that after …that …you got away into the hills?'

She nodded several times, her thoughts still vivid with the terrible scenes she had witnessed. Will and Horace sat in silence. Will glanced at his friend and a look of understanding passed between them. Evanlyn had been lucky to escape.

‘I've been hiding ever since,' she said quietly. ‘My horse went lame about ten days back and I turned him loose. Since then, I've kept moving back towards the north by night and hiding by day.' She indicated Bart and Carney, sitting trussed like two captive chickens on the far side of the clearing. ‘I saw those two a few times, and others like them. I didn't make myself known to them. I didn't think I could trust them.'

Carney assumed a hurt look. Bart was still too dizzy from the crack Horace had given him with the flat of his sword to be taking any interest in proceedings.

‘Then I saw you three earlier today from across a valley and I recognised you as King's Rangers – well, two of you, anyway,' she amended. ‘All I could think was “Thank God”.'

Gilan looked up at her at that, a small frown of concentration creasing his forehead. She didn't notice the reaction as she went on.

‘It took me most of the day to reach you. It wasn't far as the crow flies, but there was no way across the valley that separated us. I had to go the long way around. Then down and up again. I was terrified that you'd be gone by the time I got here. But luckily, you weren't,' she added, unnecessarily.

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