The Ranger and the Thief (Book two of The Ranger and the Thief series)

Chapter One

Willy dashed across the snow and out of his brother grip as MJ ran to him.

"Willy! Give it back!" MJ shouted, his voice echoing through the forest trees surrounding the village of Hallasholm.

"Only if you take back what you said!" Willy yelled back. There was a three year difference between the brothers. MJ, or Mikkel Jr, was fourteen years old and would be turning fifteen, in less then a month. Willy, or Will Jr, was three years younger. He was only eleven years old. He and MJs birthdays were only three days apart, so he would soon be twelve, a valued age around Hallasholm. His uncle Hal had promised to let him sail on his ship, the Heron the day of his twelfth birthday. The age difference didn't really matter to the boys. Willy knew MJ was larger then him and could beat him up with ease if he wanted too. He had well built muscles from training with the recurve bow that he had gotten from his grandfather when he turned twelve. His mother had taught him how to use it since it used to be her old bow before she ran away.

Willy, on the other hand, was small. MJ liked to push him around when he could, just to show the other Skandian boys in Hallasholm that he wouldn't protect any kind of brother like him. Willy was a thief, and MJ hated him because of it, but Willy couldn't help himself. It was a challenge and he loved doing it. His father was a thief before he joined brotherband training and became a trusted memeber of the Heron crew. Jesper had taught Willy when he was young the correct way to pick pockets and different complex locks. Willy was thrilled when he received a lock picking kit when he turned eight, much to his mothers dislike. Willy would challenge himself with different locks and pockets around Hallasholm and it didn't make him popular, like MJ. MJ was favoured because of his strength and his Skandian build that he had gotten from his father. Jesper wasn't the beefiest of Skandians, but MJ still seemed to get the Skandian gene.

Willy ran out of the streets, regaining his balance after slipping on the icy cobble stone paths. He darted into the woods and continued to run as tears began to stream down his face, stinging his cold cheeks. He clutched the small knife in his hand, holding the cold metal too his thin shirt.

Once Willy knew he was far enough away from Hallasholm and MJ, he sat down on a log and began to sob. He shivered and the tears fell onto the knife, making the cold metal steam from his hot tears. It all had begun earlier that morning.

   Willy was walking through the streets of Hallasholm, trying to clear his head when a band of about ten boys approached him, stopping him in his path. It was almost the afternoon, so most of the Hallasholm children were out playing in the fresh snow that the storm had given them the night before. Willy could see out of the corner of his eye, sweet little Bente and her golden curls playing with her friends in the snow. Willy was just getting out of the phase where girls had some kind of nasty disease, and he thought Bente was beautiful. MJ had often caught him starting at her and would tease him about it until his face went as red as a tomato.

Willy stopped and stared up at the boys. They were all around fourteen or fifteen, MJs age. He then noticed how his older brother was among the ten.

"Can I help you?" Willy asked politely. His mother had taught him when he was little too be nice, even though it contradicted what his father taught him about taking other peoples things from their pockets. Abby had failed to teach MJ, and she secretly joked with Willy saying that his brother had a thick skull.

"Shut it Will!" An older boy snapped at him. Only the older boys called him Will, much to his dislike. Another boy stepped forward and folded his arms so Willy had to stare up at him.

"We have a job for you, Thief." He whispered bitterly. Willy rose his eyebrows, this always meant trouble. But he hadn't picked somebodies pockets in days, and he was itching for a challenge. He gestured for the boy to continue.

"See that girl over there?" He asked pointing to Bente. Willy gulped and nodded. "She has three coins in her purse. Bring them to me." He said. Willy's eyes widened in horror.

"No!" He said. If he stole from Bente, there maybe a chance she'd hate him forever. The boy glared at Willy.

"What did you say?" His voice was dangerously low. Willy srunk back and bit his lip.

"I'm not going to steal from Bente." He said firmly, though he was shaking in his boots. The boy looked furious and rose his hand to slap him, but MJ stopped him.

"Let me handle the twerp, Lance." MJ said. Lance glared at him but stepped back. MJ bent down next to Willy and whispered in his ear so no one could hear.

"Now listen here, kid. You're gonna do as your told or else I'll tell our Mam that it was you that scratched the kitchen floor." His whispered in a deadly tone. Willy's eyes widened again, shaking his head quickly. His Mam had been furious when she saw the deep gash in the wooden floor beams two days before. Willy was playing with his new Saxe in the kitchen when MJ came barreling through and knocked it out of his hands, making the gash. They had agreed to never tell their mother, and now he was using it against him!

"Good. Now go get the coins." Willy bit his lip and hung his head, reluctantly walking over to where Bente and her friends were playing. He quickly assessed the situation. Bente had her purse tied around her wasit like every Skandian boy and girl how somehow had gotten a hold of a coin or two. Willy was never that lucky, MJ would always force him to hand over any loot he had gathered from the day.

"Hello Bente." Willy called in greeting. Bente smiled and dropped her snow ball, trudging through the snow to where he stood.

"Hello Willy." She said cheerfully. Bente was the only girl nice enough to talk to Willy. All the other children were taught by their parents to stray from people like him. Bente was too nice though. She had always talked to him when he needed to get his anger out from MJ. She won't talk to you after she finds the missing coins. The voice inside his head said. He groaned on the inside and smiled at Bente.

"I just came to say good morning." He said. She was standing close enough to him that he could just slip his hand in and out of her purse, but he couldn't. His hand wouldn't let him. She smiled at him and her stormy grey eyes flashed with delight.

"It is a good morning. Well I will see you later, Willy. My aunt wants me back now." She said. She hesitated then gave him a small peck on the cheek before running off to her house, blushing deeply. Willy blushed too and hung his head in shame as he walked back to the group of waiting boys, empty handed. He had never regretted doing so so much. MJ yelled at Willy saying he was nothing but a no good Araluen swine and went to tackle him, but Willy was too quick. He dashed across the snow, slipping under his brother and snatching his rangers throwing knife that their grandfather had given to him to let him train with. MJ stared at Willy in horror when he saw the little knife missing.

"Willy! Give it back!"

***

Willy sat on the log for quite some time, turning the blade over his fingers and repeating the words MJ had said in his head.

"You're nothing but a no good Araluen swine! I wish you had never been born!" MJs words had never hurt so much before in his life. It wasn't his fault that MJ had lost all his friends due to Willy's decision not to steal from Bente!

Willy stood and began to head back to Hallasholm. The sun was setting now and he was soaked to the skin from the snow that was falling from the clouds above. He shivered and pulled his sheepskin vest tightly around his shoulders as he made his way through the forest, expecting to be in big trouble. But what he didn't expect, was two bearded men dressed in strange cloaks, speaking to his older brother.