The Red Fox Clan Read online

  “Weight of responsibility,” Will said. “After all, now I have this dreadful apprentice to keep in check.”

  Jenny smiled warmly at Maddie. In the early days, when Maddie had first arrived at Redmont, they had got off to a rocky start because of Maddie’s haughty suggestion that Jenny address her as “Your Highness.” But the two were good friends these days.

  “How are you, Maddie?” she asked.

  Maddie grinned in return. “I’m fine, Jenny,” she said. “Would you like some coffee?” She gestured at the pot sitting in the hot embers at the side of the fire, but Jenny shook her head.

  “I’ll have to keep an eye on my kitchen staff while they pack up. Otherwise they’ll leave my best pots and ladles behind and I’ll have to come back and find them.”

  “Gilan left early this morning,” Will said.

  She nodded. “Yes. He came by early and we had some time together. Good to see him.” She smiled at the memory.

  Will cocked his head to one side. “So . . . any chance that you’ll be moving your restaurant to Castle Araluen?”

  But she shook her head firmly. “No. I’ve suggested that Gilan move his headquarters to Redmont. No reason why he shouldn’t, after all.”

  Jenny and Gilan had been “an item,” as people said, for years now. But their relationship was limited by geography. Jenny had spent years building up her business in Wensley Village near Castle Redmont, and Gilan was based at Castle Araluen.

  Will shrugged. “I suppose he thinks he needs to be close by Horace and Evanlyn,” he pointed out, but Jenny made a derogatory sound at that suggestion.

  “There are always pigeons to carry messages,” she said. “And it’s only a couple of days’ ride—less on one of your fabled Ranger horses. There’s no reason why he couldn’t be based here.”

  Will made a defensive gesture with both hands, not wishing to be dragged into that debate—although he tended to agree with Jenny. Gilan could quite easily work out of Redmont, and he’d be close to his two senior Rangers, Halt and Will, if he did so.

  “I’ll leave that to you two to work out,” he said.

  Jenny stepped forward and embraced him. “We’ll get there eventually,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Gilan tells me that you two are off to the northwest in the next few days?”

  “I am,” Will said. “Halt and I want to have a look around up there. Maddie will be heading back to Castle Araluen.” He sensed Maddie’s quick reaction as she turned to look at him.

  “I thought I’d be coming with you and Halt,” she said.

  But he shook his head. “Your mother is expecting you back at Araluen,” he said firmly. “She hasn’t seen you in a year.” He noted the stubborn set of her jaw. He knew he’d be in for a long argument.

  * * *

  • • •

  “But why?” Maddie asked for the fifteenth time. “Why can’t I come with you and Halt? I’m a Ranger, aren’t I?”

  “Because your mother wants you to visit her,” Will told her patiently. “You go home for a vacation every year after the Gathering.”

  “So, if I go every year, will it matter if I miss once? Besides, I can come with you and Halt, then go home.”

  “We don’t know how long we’ll be on the border,” Will said. “We could be weeks, even a month.”

  “Oh, come on! Gilan said they’re only vague rumors. Chances are there’s nothing to them and you’ll be back in a week or two at most.”

  “No,” said Will firmly, hoping that his refusal to discuss the matter further would put an end to their disagreement. But Maddie fell back on old ground.

  “Why?” she said. “Just tell me why.”

  And that made sixteen and seventeen times, he thought. He sighed heavily.

  “Your mother still hasn’t forgiven me for recruiting you into the Rangers,” he said.

  She made a dismissive gesture. “That wasn’t your fault. Gilan and Halt did that.”

  “Maybe. But I’m the one who trains you, so I’m the one who gets the blame when you keep passing each year.”

  “She doesn’t want me to fail, does she?” Maddie asked.

  “No. Not exactly. She’s very proud of you. But initially, she thought you would only remain as an apprentice for one year. So she wouldn’t be totally devastated if you failed and had to go home. As it is, she insists on your coming home for a month each year, and I’m not about to get in the way of that.”

  Maddie thrust her jaw out pugnaciously. “You mean to tell me you’re scared of my mother?” she challenged.

  Will met her gaze very evenly. “You’d better believe it,” he told her.

  * * *

  • • •

  Back at the cabin in the woods near Redmont, the two of them began packing their gear for their respective trips. As usual, Will simply crammed his spare clothes and equipment higgledy-piggledy into his saddlebags, shoving them in to make them fit. Maddie carefully unpacked them, folded them neatly, and replaced them in the bags so that they took up half the space they had previously.

  “No need to bother with that,” Will told her, and she gave him a long-suffering look.

  “They’ll be all crushed and wrinkled when you take them out if I don’t,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “If I wear them for half an hour, the wrinkles will come out,” he said. Then, considering for a moment, he added, “Well, maybe an hour.”

  Her own packing took considerably longer, as she had to take with her not just her Ranger uniform, but also the gowns and dresses and cloaks she would wear as the royal princess. She would change identities halfway to Castle Araluen.

  Maddie’s position as a Ranger was kept a strict secret in the kingdom. The Rangers knew, of course—but Rangers were notoriously tight-lipped. A few others, such as Baron Arald and his wife, were also aware of her activities with the Corps, but the general population was kept in the dark. Her Highness Princess Madelyn was, after all, second in line to the throne, and it would be risky for her identity as a Ranger to be widely broadcast. There was always the chance that enemies of the kingdom might seek to capture or kill her. As the apprentice Ranger Maddie, she kept a lower profile and was not in the public eye. Most people thought she was at Castle Redmont, learning the fine arts of diplomacy and hospitality under the careful eye of Lady Sandra.

  The other person who was privy to the deception was her maid, Ingrid.

  When Maddie had first arrived for her training, she brought a lady’s maid with her, along with a staggering amount of luggage. Will had promptly dispatched the girl and most of the baggage back to Castle Araluen, saying that a Ranger’s apprentice did her own cleaning and clothes mending. In subsequent years, however, they realized that Maddie would need a maid as a traveling companion when she went home at the end of the year, and Ingrid had been given the task. During the year, she stayed at Castle Redmont and worked for Lady Sandra. Then, when Maddie left for home, Ingrid would accompany her.

  The day they were due to leave, Ingrid arrived from the castle, leading Maddie’s Arridan gelding, Sundancer. It would never do for the heir to the throne to be seen riding a shaggy Ranger horse. The fine-boned Sundancer was a far more fitting mount for her. Of course, Maddie would ride Bumper until she resumed her identity as a princess. Then the little horse would masquerade as a pack pony.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she told Bumper, rubbing his silky nose. “I know it’s beneath your dignity.”

  Bumper came as near to shrugging as a horse can manage. If you can dress up like a glorified dressmaker’s dummy, I suppose I can carry a few parcels.

  5

  Gilan and Horace leaned over the map spread out on Gilan’s desk. Horace was using the point of his dagger to indicate features on the map as he spoke.

  “Our spies tell us that the Red Fox Clan have gathered somewhere in this area.” He traced the
dagger point along a winding river, indicating a spot four days’ ride north of Castle Araluen.

  “The Wezel River,” Gilan commented, noting the name. He touched a marked feature on the north bank, by a long curve in the waterway. “What’s this?”

  “It’s an old hill fort,” Horace told him. “Hasn’t been inhabited in centuries.”

  “Are the Foxes using it?” Gilan asked.

  Horace shook his head. “No. So far as I know, they have a camp somewhere on the south bank, along this long, curving stretch.”

  “So, if we approach from the south, we’ll have them hemmed in against the river.”

  “That’s right. The river is deep and there aren’t many fords. It’s not a particularly good tactical position for them. But then, they seem to be pretty low on tactical sense.”

  “They’re not trained warriors, then?” Gilan asked.

  “Not from what I’ve heard. They’re mainly brigands and thugs who have been recruited to the Red Fox Clan by the promise of payment and easy pickings. There may be half a dozen or so trained men among their leaders, but the rest appear to be a rabble.”

  “Numbers?”

  Horace rested the point of the dagger in the rough wood of the desktop. “Thirty to forty. No more than that,” he said. Then, preempting the next question, he added, “I figure we’ll take twenty cavalrymen and twenty archers with us.” He glanced up. “They’re trained men and they’ve all been in battle before. I don’t think forty raggle-tailed rebels will give us too much trouble.”

  Gilan grinned. “Particularly not with you and me along,” he said. He was joking, but there was a strong element of truth in the joke. Horace was the preeminent warrior of the kingdom, skillful, fast and strong. His amazing ability had been noted when he was barely sixteen years old. Now, many years later, he had added a wealth of experience to his natural skill. And Gilan, of course, was the Ranger Commandant, and as such he was one of the most capable Rangers in the Corps.

  “We’ll be taking rations for ten days,” Horace told the Ranger. “Dried meat and fruit, and flatbread. Each man will have two canteens. Once we’re on the way, I want to move quickly and get to the Wezel River before they hear word that we’re coming. The sooner we wrap this up, the better. We’ll bivouac at night and avoid towns and villages on the way.”

  “Good thinking. The fewer people who see us, the better. When do we leave?”

  “The cavalrymen are still mustering their remounts—the horses have been out in the fields for several months, and it’ll take a few days to get them settled and retrained for carrying riders. They go half wild when they’re left alone for any length of time. So we should be ready to go by the end of the week. That way I’ll get a chance to see Maddie before I leave.” Maddie was due to arrive the following morning.

  “I’ll get you to check over the archers’ equipment tomorrow, if you would,” Horace continued. “You know what to look for better than I do.”

  Gilan nodded assent. He reached down and slid the map across the desk, unrolling it a little more to find the area where Castle Redmont was situated.

  “Halt and Will should be well on their way by now,” he said. “Do you expect them to find anything?”

  Horace shrugged. “The intelligence was sketchy—more rumor than hard fact. But I can’t afford to ignore it. I’ll sleep better if I know those two have had a good look around. This Fox cult may be a bunch of blowhards, but an idea like this can gain momentum all too quickly, and before you know it, we could have a full-scale uprising on our hands. We need to nip it in the bud right away.”

  Gilan released the edge of the map, allowing it to roll closed once again. “Best way to handle it,” he said. “Strike fast before things get out of hand.”

  Horace straightened from where he’d been leaning on the desktop. He rerolled the map into a tight cylinder and slipped a loop of brown ribbon over the end to contain it.

  “It should take us three or four days to reach the Wezel,” he said. “Then a couple more days to locate the Foxes’ camp, and we can put an end to this nonsense.”

  Gilan grunted agreement. But he was frowning slightly. One fact was causing him concern.

  Horace noted his expression. “Is there a problem?”

  Gilan hesitated. “Forty cavalrymen and archers,” he said. “That’s more than half the standing garrison here. Are you worried that you might be leaving Cassandra shorthanded if there’s trouble?”

  Horace shook his head. “Araluen is easily defended,” he said. “Even a small garrison can hold it. And Cassandra is a good commander. She’s seen her share of combat.”

  Gilan nodded. “That’s a fact,” he said. Cassandra had proved her worth in battles from the coastal plain of Skandia to the desert wastes of Arrida and the rugged mountains of Nihon-Ja. Given a virtually impregnable position like Castle Araluen, there was no doubt that she could mount an effective and successful defense against any foreseeable threat.

  * * *

  • • •

  Maddie and Ingrid had made good time after leaving Redmont. The weather was good, and the roads were clear.

  Ingrid looked at the sun, gauging the time by its position in the sky. “You’ll need to change clothes soon,” she warned. “Time for you to become a princess again.”

  Maddie wrinkled her nose distastefully. She was still dressed as a Ranger, although she rode with her cowl back and her head bare. She enjoyed the comfort of the Ranger clothes. They were loose fitting and unrestrictive. By contrast, the riding gown she would soon put on would be tight and uncomfortable, designed for style rather than function.

  Bumper sniggered. Dressmaker’s dummy.

  “Don’t you laugh, pack pony,” she said softly.

  Ingrid glanced her way. “Did you say something?”

  Maddie hurriedly shook her head. She wasn’t sure how her maid would react to the fact that she spoke to her horse and believed he spoke back to her. Ingrid would probably think her mistress was crazy. But then, Ingrid was half convinced of that anyway, not understanding how Maddie could prefer the rough-and-ready life of a Ranger’s apprentice to the soft comforts and fine clothes of a princess.

  Then the matter was forgotten, and Ingrid gestured down the track. “We have company.”

  They had left the open country on the far side of the river, and the road at this point led through a section of Alder Forest. The trees were tall and grew close together on either side of the path, which had narrowed down until it was just wide enough for two riders to travel abreast.

  About thirty meters ahead of them, two men had stepped out of the trees to block the path. They were both heavily built and dressed in rough, stained clothing. Both were armed.

  The man on the right held a bow, with an arrow fitted to the string but not yet drawn. The flights of more arrows were visible over his shoulder, where they were held in a rough quiver. He had a long knife at his waist.

  The other, a slightly taller man, had a heavy cudgel in his right hand. It was made from a piece of hardwood, tapering down from a wide head to a narrower handgrip, wrapped with a leather strap. The heavy head was liberally studded with spikes. Altogether, it was an unpleasant sight—as was its owner.

  Instinctively, both girls had drawn rein and brought their horses to a stop. Beneath her, Maddie felt Bumper’s body vibrate as he sounded a warning rumble.

  “Maybe we should have brought an escort,” Ingrid said quietly, although Maddie noted that she didn’t seem too concerned about the situation.

  “For these two drabs?” she replied. “You’ve got to be joking.”

  Maddie lifted her right leg over the pommel and slid to the ground beside Bumper. As she did, she reached for the sling that was coiled under her belt, shaking it loose, and feeling in her belt pouch with her other hand for several of the smooth, heavy lead shot she kept there. Her bow was in i
ts bow case, tied to the right-hand rear of her saddle, but she wasn’t concerned about that. The sling was her weapon of choice anyway.

  Not needing to look, she loaded a slug into the pouch of the sling. The practiced ease with which she did this should possibly have sounded a warning to the two brigands. But they were overconfident, seeing no possible danger from two young women. She stepped a pace away from Bumper, giving herself room to wield the sling.

  Ingrid looked down at her. “Anything particular in mind?”

  Maddie shook her head. “Let’s see how things turn out,” she said, letting the sling hang to full length beside her. Bumper was continuing to rumble deep in his chest, a low, warning note that was audible only for a few meters.

  The man with the bow raised it now, although he still didn’t draw the arrow back. “Don’t keep us waiting, girls,” he called out. “Just come forward and hand over your valuables. It’ll go easier for you if you do.”

  There was a note of amusement in his voice. Maddie sensed that he was very satisfied with the situation. Ingrid was well dressed and was sure to have money and jewelry on her. Her horse was a well-bred mare and was obviously worth money as well. As was Sundancer, who was bringing up the rear, carrying their baggage. Bumper, of course, appeared unimpressive—a rough, little barrel-shaped horse that was probably sturdy and hardworking, but not worth a great deal. All in all, the two girls looked like ideal prey for the robbers. Relatively helpless and unprotected by guards, they would offer little resistance to two armed men.

  “We’ll stay here, I think,” Ingrid replied. In a quieter voice, she said to Maddie, “We could always turn back.”

  Maddie shook her head. “They wouldn’t make it so easy. By now, you’ll probably find there’s a third member of the band who has worked his way behind us.”

  Ingrid glanced over her shoulder and saw that Maddie was right. A third figure, equally roughly dressed and armed with a heavy staff surmounted by a spearhead, was standing at the point where the track led into the trees, silhouetted against the bright sunlight behind him.