The Royal Ranger: A New Beginning by John Flanagan
As they approached the house, a door opened from what was apparently the kitchen and a woman emerged. She was in her forties, tall and obviously well fed. Her clothes were fresh and clean and of good quality – even if they were homemade. They were without the array of patches that Aggie Clum’s threadbare garments had boasted.
She had been baking. She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, leaving a smear of white flour there.
Will and Maddie halted their horses. Forewarned now, Maddie made no move to dismount.
‘Good afternoon,’ Will said. ‘Would you be Mistress Gatt?’
‘I am,’ she said, glancing curiously at Maddie, then back to Will again. ‘Welcome to Gatt farm. Will you care to dismount?’
‘That we would,’ Will said. He swung down from the saddle and Maddie did likewise.
‘My name is Will Treaty,’ he said. There was no need to mention the fact that he was a Ranger. That was obvious from his clothes and equipment. ‘This is my apprentice, Maddie.’
Maddie, watching the woman closely, saw her eyes widen slightly at the mention of Will’s full name. He was a figure of some renown in Araluen, she knew – the legendary apprentice of the legendary Ranger Halt, who had gone on to equal or even surpass his mentor’s reputation. Mistress Gatt gave a hurried curtsey.
‘Would you care for a bite to eat, Rangers?’ she asked. She glanced curiously at Maddie as she said the word ‘Rangers’. It was a reaction that Maddie was rapidly becoming accustomed to. ‘I’ve got a mutton stew heating for the men’s dinner and there’s plenty to share.’
Will shook his head. ‘Thank you. But we won’t trouble you. Perhaps a drink of water to settle the dust?’ He inclined his head towards a well-kept pump close by the kitchen door and she hurriedly gestured towards it.
‘Of course. Help yourself. What brings you to Gatt farm? Is it because of the other Ranger? The one who . . .’ She hesitated, not sure whether to say ‘died’ or ‘was killed’.
Will nodded. He worked the pump handle and drew a dipper of water, took a long drink, then wiped his beard with the back of his hand, passing the dipper to Maddie.
‘Yes. I understand your husband found the body,’ he said.
She nodded several times. ‘Aye, Wendell found him. But there was nothing he could do for him by then. The man was dead several hours, he said.’ She glanced out to the fields. ‘He and the men are bringing in the last of the hay today. He’ll be in for his dinner in an hour or so. Would you care to wait for him?’
Will shook his head. ‘No. We’ll go and find him now. I have a few questions I need to ask him.’
Mistress Gatt shifted her feet uncomfortably as he said the words. She looked worried. Will hastened to reassure her.
‘I’m sure there’s no blame attached to your husband, mistress. I’d just like him to show us where he found Liam – the Ranger.’ He added the last for clarification. The worried frown disappeared from her face and she pointed across the fields.
‘He’ll be two fields down in that direction, beyond the small spinney of trees.’
‘Then we’ll talk to him there,’ Will said. He gestured for Maddie to follow and they re-mounted their horses. He touched one finger to his forehead.
‘Thanks for your help, mistress. Best get back to your baking before it burns.’
He’d noticed a delicious smell on the air. It was obviously bread or a pie just on the brink of being overdone. Her mouth formed a quick O of surprise. She’d forgotten all about her baking. She turned and hurried back into the farmhouse as they trotted away.
‘Well, she was certainly helpful,’ Maddie observed as they rode across the fields.
‘Let’s hope her husband is the same,’ Will replied.
As it turned out, Wendell Gatt was a good deal less helpful than his wife had been. He was a big, florid man, dressed in breeches and a blue linen working smock. Like his wife, his clothes were of good quality and in excellent condition. Gatt had three farm labourers working with him, gathering the last of the hay into bales.
He shook his head emphatically when Will asked if he’d show them the spot where he found Liam’s body.
‘Too busy. Work to do here. We’ve got to bring in this hay before the rain comes.’
‘We’ll only need you for half an hour or so. Surely your men can continue without you?’ Will said reasonably.
‘No. No. No,’ Gatt replied. ‘Wouldn’t trust them to do the job properly. They need to be watched constantly.’ He said it loud enough for the men to hear him. Two of them cast annoyed looks at him. The third ignored him.
Will looked at them and touched Tug with his heels, walking the little horse towards the farm workers.
‘Who’s the senior man?’ he asked. One of them raised his hand. He was about forty years old and thickset. He looked quite capable, Will thought. After all, hay baling wasn’t too complex a task.
‘That would be me, sir,’ the man said. ‘Lionel Foxtree, I am.’
‘Well, Lionel Foxtree, do you think you’re capable of continuing this work unsupervised? Your master will be away for several days.’
Hearing this, Gatt exploded with indignation. ‘Several days? You said half an hour!’ he shouted.
Will turned in his saddle to look at him. His eyes were cold.
‘Well, that was when I simply wanted you to show us where Ranger Liam died,’ he said. ‘But since you’ve refused to help us in the investigation, I’m going to have to arrest you and have you charged. That could take a day or two. Even a week.’
Gatt spluttered furiously as he searched for words. The farm workers turned away, but not before Will could see the smiles on their faces. Gatt was obviously a man who liked to get his own way.
‘Arrest me?’ he said. ‘You can’t arrest me! I’m a free man!’
‘Actually, I can arrest you. I’m a King’s Ranger. You’ve refused to help me in an investigation, which is pretty much the same as impeding said investigation. I don’t want to do it. I’d prefer it if you’d simply show us where you found Liam. But if you force me to, I will arrest you.’
Their gazes locked. Gatt’s was hot and angry. Will’s was cold and unmoving. Finally, the farmer gave way.
‘Oh, all right! Have it your own way! I’ll take you to where I found him!’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Will said. He gestured to a saddle horse that was tethered to the tail of the hay wagon. ‘And there’s a horse for you, right there.’
CONTAINING HIS ANNOYANCE as best he could, Gatt led them to the spot where he’d found Liam’s body. It was on a narrow but well-defined track, fringed on either side by scattered, low bushes. The ground was soft and easy underfoot, but not so much that it might cause a horse to stumble or lose his footing. Will swung down and studied the ground.
‘Had any rain lately?’ he asked.
Gatt shook his head. ‘Not since I found the body. But the ground is usually soft in these parts, except in high summer, when it tends to dry out.’
‘Not high summer now,’ Will said to himself, moving along the trail. It ran in a straight line here. There seemed to be no reason why Liam should have fallen from his horse.
‘Where exactly did you find the body?’ he asked.
Gatt walked his horse forward several metres. ‘Here. On the side of the trail. Just past those two trees.’
There were two sizeable trees, standing out from the general vegetation of bushes and shrubs in the area. They were about five metres apart, standing one on either side of the track. Will glanced at them. There were no low, overhanging branches that might sweep an incautious rider from his saddle.
‘Figure he fell off his horse and broke his neck,’ Gatt said.
Will pursed his lips. ‘Unlikely,’ he said. All Rangers were excellent riders.
Gatt shrugged at the uncompromising reply. ‘Maybe his horse stumbled . . .’ he essayed.
Tug, standing a little apart, shook his mane violently. Ranger horses don’t stumble.
‘Or maybe he’d been drinking,’ Gatt added.
Will turned a cold gaze on him. ‘Liam didn’t drink,’ he said and Gatt shrugged.
‘If you say. It was just a suggestion.’
Will didn’t answer. He was pacing back along the trail from where Liam’s body had been found, checking the horse’s tracks. With no rain in recent days and with the soft condition of the ground, they were still clear to see. Maddie had dismounted and was kneeling beside one of the trees, studying its trunk low to the ground.
Will turned to Gatt abruptly. ‘Thanks for your time, Farmer Gatt. We’ll trouble you no longer. You can get back to your work.’
Gatt looked surprised, and his bad mood lifted a little. He’d expected the Ranger to keep him here for hours, asking pointless questions. Now he found himself free to go about his business. But perversely, his curiosity was piqued. He’d noticed the way Will had been studying the tracks.
‘So have you found something?’ he asked. ‘Any clue as to what happened?’
Will shook his head. ‘Probably as you said. His horse stumbled and he fell. Just an accident.’
‘Oh . . . well then . . .’ Gatt still hesitated. He didn’t want to be left out if there was something significant to be known.
Will nodded to him. ‘We won’t bother you further,’ he said.
‘Right. I’ll be off then,’ Gatt said. He turned his horse away and set it into a lumbering trot, heading back to his farm. As he rode away, he turned in his saddle several times to look at them. Will waved to him as he did. Finally, when he had rounded a bend in the track and was lost to view, Maddie spoke.
‘So did you find something?’
Will nodded, and gestured for her to join him. They walked back down the track for ten metres and he pointed to the ground. ‘Look at the tracks Acorn left.’
‘Acorn?’ Maddie asked.
‘Liam’s horse. See here, as they lead up to these trees, his gait is smooth and even. From the length of his stride and the depth of the hoofprints, I’d say he was at a full gallop. But as he passes the trees, the tracks are all over the place. He’s lost his balance and he definitely stumbled.’
Tug snorted and Will looked quickly at him. ‘It happens,’ he said. Maddie was down on one knee, studying the tracks, and didn’t see that he’d addressed the comment to the horse. Instead, she rose and turned towards the nearest of the two trees.
‘I noticed something on one of the trees,’ she said. ‘It may be nothing but you should see it.’
‘Or it may be something,’ Will said. He followed her and looked where she was pointing. There was a faint scar in the bark of the tree, about half a metre above the ground.
‘Something cut the bark here,’ she pointed out.
Will raised his eyebrows. ‘Well spotted.’
She glanced up at him. ‘I didn’t think anything of it until you mentioned that Acorn seemed to lose his footing.’ She turned quickly and walked to the opposite tree. ‘Let’s see if there’s a corresponding mark on this one.’
There was but it was very faint. If they hadn’t known to look for it, they might never have seen it. Will reached forward to touch it. There was a small piece of thin white thread sticking to the bark. He plucked it free.
‘Could be fibre from a rope,’ he said. He looked up and down the track, then at the tree opposite them. ‘So let’s say Liam is galloping along this track full tilt . . .’
‘Chasing someone perhaps,’ Maddie suggested and he nodded.
‘That’s not unreasonable. And let’s say someone else has stretched a rope across the track between these two trees. Acorn hits it and stumbles, only just retaining his footing.’
‘But the stumble is enough to throw Liam clear of the saddle and he pitches onto the ground up here . . .’ Maddie walked quickly to where Gatt had told them he found Liam’s body. ‘And he’s killed in the fall.’
‘That would explain the marks on the trees,’ Will said thoughtfully. ‘As Acorn hit the rope, it would have cut into the bark with the impact.’
They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Will spoke.
‘Someone wanted Liam dead,’ he said quietly.
Maddie pursed her lips. ‘They couldn’t be sure the fall would kill him,’ she said.
‘True. But he would have been incapacitated – knocked out or winded by the fall. And they would have been ready to finish him off.’
‘Of course we can’t be sure,’ Maddie said. ‘It’s just a few jumbled hoofprints and a faint mark on a tree. That could have been caused by anything.’
‘We need to have a close look at Acorn. If he hit that rope at any sort of speed, there’ll be bruising or cuts on his legs,’ Will said.
‘Where would he be now?’ Maddie asked.
‘Most likely in the stables at Castle Trelleth,’ Will said. ‘The horsemaster would have taken him in to care for him after Liam’s death.’ He leaned back, stretching his back muscles, cramped from so much stooping and kneeling.
‘Time we paid a call on Baron Scully,’ he said.
In the event, he visited the castle alone, leaving Maddie at the small Ranger cabin set in the woods below the castle.
‘Don’t know this Scully person,’ he said. ‘But there’s always the chance that he’s been at Castle Araluen and he might recognise you. If that’s so, then he’ll want to entertain you at the castle. And then the whole countryside will know about your presence here in the next twenty-four hours.’
Maddie nodded, understanding. ‘And that would make it difficult for us to investigate,’ she said.
‘Very difficult. It’s better if we can keep a low profile. Plus I don’t want too many people knowing who you really are. It’s a matter of your safety.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ Maddie said. She was becoming weary of the way people stared at her when they realised she was a girl – and an apprentice Ranger. If the fact that she was a princess was added in, the curiosity would get out of hand. ‘I’ll stay in the cabin.’
‘Take a look through Liam’s papers while you’re here,’ Will told her. ‘There might be some clue as to what he was on to.’
Ranger cabins were all built to two basic designs. Liam’s was almost identical to the one Maddie shared with Will and she felt comfortable there. As Will had instructed, she went through the papers on Liam’s small desk to see if there was any clue as to the reason for his death. But she found nothing. It was almost dusk when she heard Bumper whinny from the stable behind the cabin. Then Tug answered and a few minutes later Will rode up through the trees.
‘Well, we’ve got our answer,’ he said. ‘Acorn was limping when they recovered him. He had a cut on his right foreleg. The horsemaster said he assumed Acorn had stumbled and injured himself, throwing Liam off. But it could have been caused by his hitting a rope.’
‘So Liam’s death was definitely no accident,’ she said.
‘It would appear not. Now all we have to do is find out why someone would want to kill him. He must have chanced upon something. Must have seen something going on.’
‘Should we tell Gilan?’ she asked and he nodded.
‘I’ll send a message pigeon from the castle tomorrow. But I know what he’ll say. He’ll want us to nose around and find out what’s going on. No sense in having crowds of people coming in here to investigate. That’ll just tip our hand to whoever killed Liam. Better for us to do it quietly.’
He paused, then a thought struck him as his gaze fell on the desk and the papers crowded there.
‘Anything in his papers?’ he asked.
Maddie shook her head. ‘Nothing I could see.’
‘Hardly surprising. If he was on the trail of something, he wouldn’t leave his paperwork in full view. He’d have it well hidden.’
Maddie glanced round the little living room. There seemed to be nowhere that would serve as a hiding place.
‘Where would he do that?’ she asked.
In answer, Will rose and
He rapped on the boards with the hilt, working in a semi-circle. On the fourth rap, the boards sounded hollow and he gave a small grunt of satisfaction. Then he inserted the tip of the saxe into a narrow join between two boards and levered.
There was a groan of wood rubbing on wood, and a small trapdoor was levered open, exposing a hidden, wood-lined cavity below the floor. He looked up at Maddie.
‘All our cabins have a strongbox,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘It’s just a matter of spotting where it is.’
He reached into the cavity and produced a thin sheaf of papers, enclosed in a folder and wrapped with a green ribbon.
‘Now what do we have here?’ he said.
THEY MOVED TO the table and sat side by side as Will laid out the contents of the hidden strongbox.
The first item was a rough map of the area surrounding Castle Trelleth. It had been quickly sketched, presumably by Liam, and showed little in the way of geographical features. But there were three villages marked on the map, all some distance from the castle. Beside each, a person’s name was neatly written.
Maddie leaned forward, elbows on the table, and looked at the name nearest her.
‘Boyletown, Peter Williscroft,’ she said, reading from the map. ‘Who’s Peter Williscroft and what does he have to do with Boyletown?’
Will shook his head. ‘And who’s Carrie Clover, and what is she doing in Danvers Crossing? And what does Maurice Spoker have to do with Esseldon?’
They looked at the map for several seconds, as if expecting the answer to become clearer.
‘Maybe they’re the headmen of those villages?’ Maddie suggested.
Will tapped the name on the second village they had mentioned. ‘Carrie Clover would be a woman,’ he said.
Maddie grunted. She’d never heard of a village electing a head woman, although it was possible.