The Red Fox Clan Page 3

  “Well then,” he replied, “as a friend, let me advise you. Accept the judgment and let this matter drop. In fact, keep it in mind for the future. You may well be the most accomplished person at unseen movement—”

  “Am I?” said Maddie, brightening, but he simply looked at her for several seconds before replying.

  “I’m saying that as a hypothetical,” he said, and she subsided, her balloon of pride well and truly pricked. “But even if you were,” he went on, “the fact is that accidents and bad luck happen. A little mistake, a little unexpected event, can give you away. Don’t forget it.”

  She thought about his words, then nodded. “You’re right, Gilan. I’m sorry.” She turned to Will. “And I won’t go on and on about this when we’re home,” she said.

  Will snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  Before she could reply, Gilan drew their attention to a figure seated comfortably by the fire in front of their three tents.

  “And unless my eyes deceive me, that would seem to be Halt waiting for us,” he said.

  “Wonder what he wants,” Will mused.

  “I’m sure he’ll tell us,” Maddie said in a self-satisfied voice. It was the kind of answer Will would give to her if she ever voiced a rhetorical question like that, and she was pleased to have an opportunity to say it to him.

  “I think I preferred it when you were whining about being trodden on,” Will said.

  3

  Halt looked up as Will, Maddie, and Gilan approached the fire. He had just dropped a handful of coffee beans into a pot of water boiling over the coals and was stirring it with a thin stick.

  “Good evening,” he said. “I trust you’ve had a successful day?”

  “Yes indeed. Maddie has passed her assessment and will advance to fourth-year training,” Will said.

  Halt inclined his head toward her. “Well, I can’t say that was unexpected,” he said. “In spite of the ham-fisted mentor you’re stuck with.” He smiled as he said the last words.

  Will chose to ignore them.

  “Another perfect score?” Halt asked, and Maddie scowled.

  “Oh no,” Will muttered. “Did you have to ask that?”

  Halt’s gaze shifted between them, and he raised an interrogative eyebrow. “Was there a problem?”

  “They failed me on unseen movement,” Maddie said, the anger returning.

  Now both Halt’s eyebrows shot up. “How did that happen? I’ve seen you, or rather, I haven’t seen you, practicing unseen movement. You’re an expert. You’re nearly as good as Gilan.” He smiled at his former apprentice.

  “Well, technically, I’d passed all right. Nobody saw me. They’d all gone past me when a sweeper trod on my hand.”

  If she was expecting sympathy from the older Ranger, she was disappointed. He emitted a short bark of decidedly unsympathetic laughter.

  “Ah well, these things do happen,” he said. “You can’t allow for bad luck.”

  Maddie drew breath to reply, but Will laid a restraining hand on her forearm.

  “Don’t say It’s not fair again,” he cautioned her. “Life isn’t always fair, and you have to live with that fact.”

  His apprentice’s protest died stillborn on her lips. She mumbled something under her breath, and he deemed it wiser to pretend he hadn’t heard it. Halt busied himself pouring a mug of coffee, then looked around for the honey jar he knew would be somewhere close to hand.

  “It’s hanging from that tree branch,” Gilan said, pointing to an overhanging limb that stretched out from the massive oak under which they had pitched their tents. “You didn’t expect us to leave it by the fire where the ants could get at it, did you?”

  Maddie reached up and passed the honey to Halt. He spooned a liberal amount into his cup and drank, letting out an “Aaaaah!” of quiet satisfaction when he had done so.

  While Will poured coffee for himself and Gilan, Halt studied Maddie with an amused expression on his face.

  He’s mellowed, Gilan thought. Time was, Halt would go for a month on end without letting a smile show on his face. Must be Pauline’s influence.

  “You know,” Halt said, leaning back against the log beside the fire and stretching his legs out, “a similar thing happened to me years ago.”

  “During your assessment?” Maddie asked.

  The old Ranger shook his head. “I didn’t have an assessment as such,” he said. “Crowley just decided my skills were up to scratch and declared I was a Ranger.” There was a wistful note in his voice as he mentioned the late Commandant. He missed Crowley, who had been his first true friend. Then he resumed his anecdote. “No. This happened when I was being chased by a band of Temujai.”

  “Was that when you stole their horse herd?” Will asked.

  Halt regarded him with a small frown. Will grinned to himself. Halt didn’t like to be reminded that he had stolen a herd of twenty horses from the Temujai, to add their bloodline to the Ranger horse-breeding program.

  “Let’s say I acquired them,” Halt said. “I left a hundred and fifty silver pieces for them—far more than the horses were worth.”

  “But you didn’t actually ask the Temujai if they were willing to sell the horses to you, did you?” Gilan put in. Like Will, he knew Halt’s ticklish attitude about the way he had “acquired” the herd.

  “Well, that would have been pointless,” Halt admitted. “They never sold their horses.”

  “So, in fact, you did steal them,” Will said, and Halt glared at him.

  “Stealing is when you take something without payment,” he said. “Something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Whether you left money for them or not, you’ve admitted that the Temujai weren’t willing to sell, so in effect, you stole them,” Gilan resumed, barely managing to hide a smile. Halt’s eyebrows lowered as he looked from one former apprentice to another.

  “I preferred you two when you showed a little respect for your elders,” he said.

  Will shrugged. “Well, we used to respect you. But then we found out you’d stolen a herd of horses, and it was hard to keep looking up to you after that.”

  Maddie took pity on the white-haired Ranger. She liked Halt. He was always a friend to her, and she’d only recently learned that it was he who had been instrumental in changing Ranger policy and having a girl admitted to the training program.

  “You said something similar happened to you,” she reminded him. “Did one of the Temujai tread on you?”

  He nodded gratefully to her, glad the subject had been changed. He took a sip of his coffee and resumed his story.

  “No. I’d concealed the horses—the ones I’d bought and paid for,” he added, with a baleful glance at Gilan, “in a copse of trees. I was going to fetch water from a nearby stream when two Temujai appeared, driving half a dozen goats to the water. They were mounted, of course.”

  “So, one of their horses trod on you?” Maddie asked.

  “Which one of us is telling this story?” Halt asked her, and she made an apologetic gesture, encouraging him to go ahead. He paused, making sure she wasn’t about to interrupt again, then continued.

  “So there I was, lying in the long grass, covered by my cloak—”

  “Just like me,” Maddie put in, then, seeing his exasperated expression, hastily added, “Sorry! Sorry! Please continue!”

  “You’re sure?” Halt asked, and she nodded repeatedly, lips pressed tightly together. “So there I was, lying on the ground, totally concealed from the Temujai, when a nanny goat started to chew my hair.”

  Will and Gilan, who had never heard this story before, erupted in laughter. Maddie grinned, but decided that, in Halt’s current mood, it might be best to appear sympathetic.

  “You should have had your cowl up!” Will said.

  “I did,” Halt replied. “The damn nanny goat nuzz
led it aside and started chomping.”

  Their laughter grew louder. Gilan finally got control of himself and said, straight-faced, “I’ve often wondered how you came by that haircut. This explains a great deal.”

  Halt had the reputation in the Ranger Corps of cutting his hair with his saxe knife. The results were often ragged and uneven.

  “So, what happened then?” Maddie wanted to know.

  “Obviously, I leapt up to get away from the nanny goat. The Temujai nearest me was thrown from the saddle when his horse reared in surprise. I grabbed the other one by the leg and tossed him out of the saddle as well. Then I ran for it. I only just got away. Fortunately, Abelard was close by, and he outran their ponies. I circled back for the rest of the horses that night.”

  He looked steadily at Maddie. “The point of this is, accidents happen. People tread on you. Nanny goats chew your hair. You have to be ready for the unexpected. It’s all part and parcel of staying hidden. Remember it in future. Learn from this experience. You never know what’s going to happen.”

  Maddie nodded meekly. “Yes, Halt. Thank you.”

  “Now,” said Halt, turning back to Will and Gilan, “do either of you grinning apes want to ask me what brought me here? Why I’ve ridden all the way from Castle Redmont and my cozy fireplace to visit you?”

  Halt had been an irregular visitor to the Gathering this year. He had coached some of the younger apprentices, helping them improve their shooting technique. And from time to time he had assessed them in various tasks. But that side of his activity had ended as the Gathering came to a close.

  Gilan shrugged. “I assume you came for the farewell ceremony.”

  Halt nodded. “Well, that’s true. But that’s not until tomorrow. A dispatch came for you from Horace. I thought I’d better bring it out, since nobody at Redmont knew where the Gathering Ground was.”

  The Gathering Ground moved each year, and its exact whereabouts were kept a strict secret. The Ranger Corps had made many enemies over the years, and some of them would have been keen to know where the entire Corps would be for these two weeks.

  Halt reached inside his vest and brought out a rolled scroll, held with a ribbon, which was in turn sealed with a large blob of wax. He passed it to Gilan, who studied the seal, recognizing Horace’s symbol.

  “Have you read it?” he asked Halt. The old Ranger was notorious for his ability to open and reseal communications. He had an extensive kit of instruments with which he could lift wax seals without disturbing the impression or breaking the wax. And, in case of accidents, he also kept a stock of counterfeit seals with which he could replace the original. They weren’t always exact replicas, but they were close enough to fool most people at a cursory glance.

  Halt looked affronted. “It’s sealed,” he said, with some dignity. Will grinned to himself as he realized that Halt hadn’t actually answered the question.

  “When has that ever stopped you?” Gilan muttered, breaking the seal and unrolling the parchment sheet to read it. After a few seconds, he glanced up at Maddie. “Your dad sends his love,” he said. “He hopes you’re doing well at your assessments.”

  Maddie smiled. Typical of her father. He would send her a personal message even in an official communication. She and Horace had a close relationship, which had become even closer when she began training as a Ranger. It took her further into her father’s world and gave them a lot in common.

  Gilan went back to the dispatch, frowning slightly as he read on.

  “Bad news?” Will asked, noticing the frown.

  Gilan waved the question aside, waiting till he’d finished reading the message. Then he looked up, fixing his gaze on Halt. “Have you heard anything about a group called the Red Fox Clan?”

  Halt made a small moue. “Not a great deal. Anarchists, aren’t they?”

  Gilan shook his head. “A bit more than that. We’ve been getting reports about them at Castle Araluen for some months now. They’re a group who oppose the current laws of succession to the throne. They want to revert to a patriarchal system.”

  Araluen law said that any true descendant, male or female, could inherit the throne. Thus, in the event of Duncan’s death, Cassandra would become queen, and ruler, in her own right. Horace would not become King simply because he was married to her. He would be her consort. And, in time, Maddie would inherit the throne from her mother. But if the Red Fox Clan had their way, the kingdom would revert to an old law, where the throne could be passed down only to a male descendant. If this happened, it would throw the current succession into chaos.

  “Any reason why they feel that way?” Will asked.

  Gilan shrugged. “Most likely because someone wants to use it as a pretext for taking the throne himself,” he said. “In any event, they mean trouble for Cassandra and Maddie here, and Horace thinks it’s time we put a stop to it.”

  “What’s he got in mind?” Will asked. He noticed that Halt wasn’t asking questions, which seemed to indicate that he had read the dispatch.

  “We’ve finally located their headquarters near the east coast,” Gilan said. “Horace plans for him and me to take a company of troops and put an end to their nonsense once and for all.” He hesitated, looking at the other two Rangers. “At the same time, there are rumors that another group of them has formed on Redmont’s northwest border. He’s asked if you two will investigate, see what they’re up to, and bring them to heel as well.”

  “So, you’ll be heading back to Castle Araluen tomorrow?” Halt asked.

  Gilan regarded him, head cocked to one side. “That’s what it says here,” he said, tapping the dispatch. “But how could you have known that?”

  Halt smiled. “Just a lucky guess,” he said.

  4

  The closing ceremony of the Gathering was always a bittersweet affair. The Rangers and their apprentices gathered for a farewell banquet, with kitchen and serving staff brought in from Castle Redmont and its adjoining village. Now that the Gathering was almost over, there was no need to keep the location a secret. It would be moved somewhere else the following year.

  The Rangers feasted and talked long into the night, until the poignant moment when they joined together to sing their traditional farewell song, “Cabin in the Trees.”

  Rangers lived a dangerous, adventurous life, and there was no knowing how many of those assembled here would be present in a year’s time. So they mingled and embraced and wished each other well and looked deep into one another’s eyes, knowing that in some cases this could be the last time they saw their comrades.

  Gilan had decided to stay for the ceremony, in spite of originally declaring his intention to return immediately to Castle Araluen in response to Horace’s message.

  “One night won’t make any difference,” he told Halt. “And Horace will be busy assembling his troops anyway. I’ll leave early in the morning.”

  Most of the others followed his example, packing up and leaving camp before dawn. Now that the Gathering was over, they were keen to return to their respective fiefs and catch up on events that had transpired while they had been away. Will and Maddie, with only a short distance to travel back to Castle Redmont, took their time, staying for a late breakfast and watching the catering staff pack up their wagons and head out. There was something sad about the patches of bare earth where the Rangers had pitched their tents for the past ten days—evidence that they had been here but now were gone.

  Will looked around the near-silent ground. “Good-byes are always sad,” he said, more to himself than to Maddie. But she replied anyway.

  “Mother told me you always felt that way—that when you left, you never looked back.”

  He smiled sadly. “That’s true. I could never bear to see who or what I was leaving behind. These days, I tend to look back in case it’s the last time I see the people I’m leaving.” He shrugged. “Put it down to my advancing ye
ars, I suppose.”

  Maddie laughed. “Advancing years indeed! You’re in your prime.”

  “It’d be nice to think so,” he replied. Then he noticed a figure approaching through the empty tent lines. “Hullo, I was wondering if Jenny would drop by.”

  His old wardmate Jenny had been responsible for the catering the night before. Master Chubb, her longtime mentor, had recently retired. In spite of Baron Arald’s best efforts, Jenny had resisted all offers to move to Castle Redmont and take over the kitchens there. She was an independent character, and she enjoyed having her own establishment in the village. Instead, she had trained one of her own apprentices to replace Chubb in the castle kitchens. On special occasions, she took over the cooking at Redmont. Baron Arald treasured those occasions and tried to arrange as many as he could.

  Will rose to greet her as she came closer. He grunted slightly as he stood, uncoiling his legs, and glanced down at Maddie.

  “See what I mean about advancing years?” he said, feeling slightly envious of the way she rose smoothly to her feet. Even the old injury to her hip didn’t seem to bother her most of the time. Then he turned to his old friend. “Morning, Jenny. I’m sorry we didn’t have time for a long chat last night.”

  “I was a little busy,” Jenny replied. She was a stern and demanding taskmaster to her kitchen staff, and she insisted that the Rangers be provided with only the best food and drink. They had had time for a brief word the previous night, but no more than that.

  Will looked at her appreciatively. There were a few lines of gray in her blond hair these days, and her waist might have thickened a little—one of the hazards of being a chef and having a keen appreciation of the fine food she prepared—but she’d always had a rounded figure, and the extra inches looked good on her.

  “You’re as pretty as ever,” he said, but she waved the compliment aside.

  “And you’re as grim as a gray old wolf,” she said. “Whatever became of that fresh-faced boy I grew up with?”