Sparks Flying - A Ranger's Apprentice Story

Chapter One

"Ranger Treaty, come quickly! There's an emergency messenger for you at the castle."

Will Treaty looked up from the stack of reports on his lap. He jumped to his feet, sending the papers flying, and stepped off the cabin porch to meet Martin, Baron Arald's secretary, who had just burst into the clearing on foot.

"What is it, Martin?" Will asked, his voice low and urgent.

The secretary bent over, breathing heavily. When he had gotten enough of his breath back to talk, he gasped out, "I don't know, Ranger. They just told me to come get you, and that you should come as fast as you can."

Will forced down the sudden sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be Alyss. It simply couldn't be, he tried to convince himself. She was more than capable of taking care of herself on missions. If Will had only learned one thing during the fifteen years of their marriage, it was: never bet against Alyss.

It was more likely an urgent message from Evanlyn - Cassandra, he corrected himself - who had recently become the acting Queen Regent as her father's health declined.

As these thoughts spun through Will's head, his body reacted automatically, just as he had been trained. He quickly saddled Tug with efficient, practiced motions. He slung his quiver over his shoulder, grabbed his longbow from where he'd left it next to his chair on the porch, and swung into the saddle. 

Tug, intuitive as always, had already grasped the gravity of the situation - and, more importantly, the need to hurry. Without even a signal from Will, he took off from a complete standstill, his legs churning as he rocketed down the path leading out of the clearing, kicking up a cloud of dust around Martin, who had begun his own, slower, journey back to the castle.

The ride to Redmont Castle normally took about ten minutes, but today Tug made it in five. Will made no effort to rein in the little horse, instead letting Tug take control. Will leaned down over Tug's neck, his cloak streaming behind him, blinking away the tears the wind created in his smarting eyes.

The guards at the front gate stepped aside to let Will pass as Tug tore into the courtyard of Redmont Castle, sliding to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the keep. Normally, as a matter of safety and formality, the guards would stop Will at the gate and ask to see his oakleaf as identification, although they knew him, but they, and everyone else watching, knew better than to stop a Ranger in a hurry. For one thing, anything that upset a Ranger that much was probably a matter of national security or worse. For another, none of the guards or other castle personnel was any match for a Ranger.

Will slid out of Tug's saddle, leaving the little horse in the middle of the courtyard. He didn't have to worry about Tug wandering off - the horse had been trained to stay where his master left him.

Patrick, the castle seneschal, ran up to him. "Ranger! Good, you're here. The messenger is waiting for you Baron Arald's office."

Will spun on his heel, dashing into the keep. He took the spiral staircase four steps at a time. The guards at Baron Arald's door stood aside immediately when they saw him, and Will burst into the sunny, spacious room.

The first people he saw inside were Halt and Lady Pauline. Will searched their faces anxiously for any hint of why he was there. Due to her Courier training, Pauline was as inscrutable as ever. Halt wore his normal masked expression, but Will knew him well enough to read the tension in his shoulders and the alertness in his stance. Something was terribly wrong, Will knew.

Gilan stood next to Halt, his face guarded and impassive, giving away nothing. He gave Will a quick nod of greeting, which Will returned.

Will then turned to face Baron Arald, who was standing behind his desk. He gave Arald a habitual nod of respect, noting that the Baron's face was troubled. A man Will had never seen before sat slumped in a chair in front of the Baron's desk. His clothes and beard were caked with dust and sweat, and his eyes were rimmed red with exhaustion.

"Good, Will, you're here," Baron Arald said. There was obvious relief in his voice. "Thanks for coming so quickly. This is Brian Hanson, a messenger from Anselm Fief."

The place name didn't mean anything special to Will. He'd only been through the pretty little southern fief once, during one of his trips from Seacliff to Redmont, when the road he normally used had been washed out by an out-of-season storm, forcing him to take a detour.

Baron Arald continued his introduction. "Brian rode for three days straight to bring us what he says is important information, only for the ears of you, Halt, Lady Pauline, Gilan, and myself. At his request, we agreed to wait for your arrival before Brian makes his report."

Baron Arald motioned for all present to be seated, before nodding at the messenger, signaling him to begin his report.

The messenger stared at the floor as he began to speak. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of such unfortunate news." He suddenly turned to Will. "Ranger Treaty, your wife, the Courier Lady Alyss, has been seriously injured."