Ranger's Apprentice 12: The Royal Ranger (19 page)

‘Some years ago, we were in the Arridi desert,’ he began.

Maddie nodded eagerly. ‘Yes. Was that when my mother went off to rescue the Skandian Oberjarl?’ She’d heard vague references to that event, but neither her mother nor her father had ever filled in any of the detail. Now she sensed that she was about to learn more about that adventure and she hitched herself around so she could watch Will as he continued.

‘That was it. In any case, at one stage, I had to match Tug in a race against an Arridan stallion called Sandstorm. He was a real champion, the finest in the Bedullin herd.’

‘Bedullin?’ she repeated uncertainly. She wasn’t familiar with the word.

‘The Bedullin are a nomadic Arridi tribe. Great horsemen and wonderful horse breeders. One of their young men took a fancy to Tug.’

Actually, of course, it had been a predecessor of the present Tug who was involved in the race, but Will didn’t want to get into that, or his belief that his horse’s character transferred from one incarnation to the next. He wasn’t sure that he could explain it properly if he tried.

‘We were separated – by a sandstorm, ironically enough. The young Bedullin found Tug wandering in the desert and claimed him.’

Maddie glanced down at the little horse. ‘Why?’ she asked, undiplomatically.

Will looked at her for a few seconds, then shook his head. When he spoke, there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

‘Because they’re great judges of horseflesh,’ he said tartly. ‘They look beyond the obvious.’

And I have a great inner beauty.

Absentmindedly, Will patted Tug on the neck again. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘Sandstorm was the pick of their herd. He was their ruler’s personal mount. I convinced them that if Tug and I could beat him in a race, I would keep Tug.’

‘Why didn’t they just keep him anyway? Why did they have to race you?’

‘The young man in question was having a hard time riding Tug. I agreed to help him if he won the race.’

She snorted disdainfully. ‘Can’t have been much of a horseman,’ she said. ‘What was so hard about riding him?’

He was about to answer, then he stopped himself. He felt a sudden, wicked impulse. Maddie was so sure of herself, so quick to denigrate Tug. It might be fun to prick that balloon, he thought.

‘I’ll tell you later. Anyway, Sandstorm took off like an arrow out of a bow. Tug went off after him, but over the first fifty metres or so, Sandstorm kept pulling away.’

‘Well, of course he did,’ she said, comfortable in her own certainty.

‘The thing was, I was confident that Tug would outlast Sandstorm. Our Ranger horses are bred to have enormous stamina and I made sure the race was over a long distance, not just a sprint. In the second part of the race, we started to gain. We gradually drew up level with him, and we were running neck and neck, with barely three hundred metres to go.’

Will was looking into the distance, but in his mind, he was seeing that desert race course again, looking back over the many years that had passed.

‘Tug was running faster than I had ever known him to. But Sandstorm was a great horse. He was matching us. We’d draw ahead a metre or so. Then he’d catch us and draw ahead in his turn.’

He paused, remembering.

Maddie’s eyes were alight with the excitement of the tale. ‘What happened?’

‘Well, Tug sort of took over. He suddenly accelerated away from the other horse, leaving him standing. But Sandstorm made up the gap once more, and as he pulled level, I felt Tug falter in his stride.’

‘You’d pushed him too hard,’ she said, remembering how she had done the same thing with Sundancer three days previously. Then she frowned. Tug was here with them. Obviously, they hadn’t lost the race.

‘So I thought. But that slight falter was enough to make Sandstorm give it everything he had. He pulled away again, running like the wind.

‘Then, he hit the wall, and Tug suddenly recovered and accelerated past him. I had no idea Tug could move as fast as he did. But even more amazingly, he had faked the other horse into overextending himself. That break in his stride had been intentional, to goad Sandstorm into too great an effort.’

Will grinned at his horse and leaned forward to scratch him between the ears.

‘The thing is, we need horses that combine stamina and speed. A Ranger horse can move incredibly quickly, as you’ll see later. But it can also keep up that constant lope you saw yesterday for hour after hour, with barely a rest.

‘We need that. We travel alone. If we’re ever in a tight spot, we need to know that our horses can outlast our enemies’ horses – even if they have remounts available to them. We have just the one horse. We need to be able to rely on it.

‘Our horses have to be smart and cunning. And be fast. And able to run all day without pause. That’s the way they’re bred. Our horse breeders have been breeding them that way for generations now.’

‘So where are we going now?’ she asked, although she thought she already knew. Will’s words confirmed her suspicions.

‘We’re going to see Young Bob. He’s our senior horse breeder. And he has your Ranger horse ready for you.’

Young Bob was something of a revelation. Bowlegged and slight of build, he ambled out from his cabin to meet them.

His skin was browned by years of exposure to sun and wind. He was almost completely bald, with just a few tufts of wispy white hair on either side of his head. When he smiled, Maddie saw that he had very few teeth left, and his face was wrinkled and creased with age. She couldn’t begin to assess how old he might be.

Only his eyes were young. They were blue and bright and discerning. And clear. He knuckled his forehead to Will as they rode up to his cabin.

‘Good day to you, Ranger Will.’

‘Good day, Young Bob. Hope you’re keeping well,’ Will said. Young Bob nodded several times at that, as if considering the statement.

‘Oh yes. Can’t complain. Can’t complain. Get the odd ache and pain now and then, of course, and my back sometimes gives me a terrible twinge . . .’ He cackled with laughter. It was a strange, high-pitched sound but Maddie thought it was appropriate, coming from this gnome-like figure.

‘But there I go, complaining, don’t I?’ Young Bob doubled up laughing, then stopped abruptly and turned that surprisingly shrewd gaze on Maddie. She felt she was being assessed.

‘There’s never been a girl apprentice before,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘I know.’

‘So, how are you enjoying it? Do you like it?’

She hesitated. It had been some time since she’d even considered that question. The days had been too busy
learning new skills and perfecting her shooting and slinging to ask herself if she was enjoying it.

‘Yes. I am,’ she answered after a pause. She was surprised to find that she meant it.

Young Bob tilted his head to one side to study her more closely. The smile faded as he looked at her, assessing her. He seemed to approve of what he saw.

‘Good for you,’ he said. ‘It’s a big chance you’ve been given. Make the most of it.’

‘I plan to,’ she said. She was conscious of Will’s appraising gaze on her. Conscious, too, that she meant what she said. She did plan to make the most of this opportunity and she felt another quick sense of surprise as she realised it.

And suddenly, that smile split Young Bob’s wizened face once more.

‘Course, she can’t be no Ranger without no Ranger horse, can she, Ranger Will?’

‘That’s what I’ve been telling her,’ Will agreed.

‘Then I’d best fetch one for her.’ Young Bob turned away, hobbling quickly towards a large stable building that stood behind his cabin. He moved in a slightly sideways shuffle, hopping across the dusty ground.

When she judged he was well out of earshot, Maddie leaned over in her saddle and said softly to Will, ‘Why do you call him Young Bob? He’s positively ancient.’

Too late, he held up a hand to forestall her. But Young Bob turned back to face them, cackling once more.

‘Cause my father is Old Bob – and he’s even more ancient than me.’

He turned away again, resuming that strange, half-hopping gait towards the stables. He had gone another five metres when he glanced back over his shoulder at her.

‘And he’s the one who’s deaf. I ain’t.’

Maddie glanced at Will, holding her hands out, palm uppermost, in a helpless gesture. He shrugged.

The bent-over figure disappeared into the stable. A few seconds later, they heard a horse whinny from inside the large building. Tug instantly responded. Sundancer’s ears pricked up and he looked around. He was a little unsure of himself in these surroundings. Tug, by contrast, seemed perfectly at home.

Young Bob emerged into the morning sunlight, leading a horse behind him. In spite of her misgivings about Ranger horses, Maddie leaned forward expectantly. This was to be her mount, after all.

Like Tug, he was stocky and barrel-chested, and somewhat short in the legs. His mane and tail were both long and his coat was on the shaggy side. But he’d been curried and brushed until his coat almost gleamed. And she felt a catch in her throat as she saw that he was a piebald – marked in irregular patterns of white and black. She’d always fancied piebalds.

Young Bob led the horse up to them. Tug whinnied again and moved forward to nuzzle the other horse. Sun-dancer stepped nervously, backing off a few paces.

‘This here’s Bumper,’ Young Bob said.

‘Bumper?’ Maddie asked.

The horse breeder cackled again, patting the horse affectionately. ‘Named him that when he was a foal. He used to like to bump into things – see if they’d fall over. He’s over that now.’

As if on cue, the piebald butted him with his nose, causing him to stagger a few steps.

‘Well, mostly, anyways,’ he admitted.

Maddie was studying the horse, discerning the powerful muscles hidden under that well-brushed coat. Bumper looked at her and she saw the intelligence and empathy in his eyes. She felt a sudden rush of ownership – no, she thought, it was more like friendship.

‘What do you think of him?’ Will asked, his eyes intent on his young apprentice.

And for the third time in ten minutes, Maddie found herself somewhat surprised by her reply.

‘He’s beautiful,’ she said softly.

‘
WELL, SLIDE DOWN
from there and I’ll saddle him up for you,’ Young Bob told her. ‘I assume you’ll want to use your own saddle?’

She nodded as she slipped from Sundancer’s back. A saddle was a very personal item. She was used to this one and she was comfortable on it.

‘Yes, please,’ she said. Young Bob started to move towards Sundancer, but Will held up a hand to stop him.

‘I think we’ll let Maddie do her own saddling,’ he said. ‘May as well get started the way we mean to continue, and we don’t have any stable hands to help us at the cabin.’

Maddie didn’t mind saddling and bridling the horse. She’d been doing that for several years now. Young Bob hopped away towards the fence and retrieved a rope halter. He slipped it over Sundancer’s neck as Maddie removed the bridle from the Arridan.

‘Nice horse,’ he said, looking approvingly at Sundancer’s lines. ‘Got a good turn of speed, these Arridans, and a nice nature too. Pity he’s a gelding.’

Maddie slipped the bridle over Bumper’s head. The little horse actually lowered his head to allow her to do so. She stopped and looked curiously at Young Bob.

‘Why’s that?’ she asked.

‘Would have liked to borrow him for a year or so. Use him in our breeding programme.’

‘He’s a bit fine in the limbs for a Ranger horse, isn’t he?’ Will asked. In the course of his career, he’d unhorsed many armed riders by the simple expedient of having Tug charge headlong into their horses. The Arridan’s legs were too fragile for that sort of behaviour, he thought.

Bob scratched his nose thoughtfully. ‘Mebbe so. But we could use the speed. Breed him with something a little heavier and you’d get speed and a good solid build as well.’

Maddie had the bit and bridle set now. Bumper moved his mouth open and shut, chewing until he settled the bit into a comfortable position. Maddie quickly unbuckled the saddle and heaved it off Sundancer’s back, turning to carry it to Bumper.