Ranger's Apprentice 12: The Royal Ranger (42 page)

‘Fire arrows?’

He glared at her again.

‘That wasn’t an inquiry. It was more a statement,’ she said apologetically.

‘I’ll let it pass. Yes, I’ll start shooting fire arrows. If there’s one thing puts the fear of the hereafter into a sailor,
it’s fire on board his ship. Ships are full of tarred rope and dried-out canvas and pinewood. They burn at the first hint of a flame.’

‘So they’ll go running down the beach to their ship to put the fire out?’ Maddie asked

Will nodded. ‘And my guess is, Ruhl and his men will help them. If they lose that ship, all their work goes for nothing. Once they’re all bunched around the ship, I’ll pick off a few of Ruhl’s men. That’ll lessen the odds.’

‘They’ll come after you as soon as you do that,’ she said. There was a worried tone in her voice as she thought about him facing eighteen men on his own.

He shook his head dismissively. ‘That’s the idea. I’ll lead them away, heading back up the cliffs to the south-west. And they won’t come too fast. Nothing slows a man down like the thought that he might be running into an arrow at any minute,’ he added grimly.

‘What do I do while all this is going on?’ she asked.

He tapped the point of his saxe on the dirt map again, at the spot where the path was indicated.

‘I want you at the bottom of the path before I start. Once they head down the beach to the ship, you have to let the kids out.’ He paused and glanced at her appraisingly. ‘Do you know where the key is?’

She nodded. ‘It’s on a hook on one of the mess tent support posts.’

‘Good girl. You get them out of the cave and lead them back up the path. Then head north as fast as you can. With all the commotion at the ship, odds are nobody will notice you going.’

‘And if they do?’

‘Well, that’s where all that practice with your bow and your sling will come in handy. Don’t let them get close. They’re killers and they won’t give you a second chance. If they’re coming at you, don’t hesitate to shoot them.’

She thought about his plan for some moments. It seemed logical. It was simple enough, but Will had often told her that simple plans were the best. There was less to go wrong.

‘All right. And do we meet up again back here?’ she asked finally.

But he shook his head. ‘You leg it north as fast as you can. I’ll take Ruhl and his men out to the south-west. Then I’ll shake them off and double back to join up with you.’

He sounded confident. But she knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he was making it out to be. He sensed her concern.

‘If something goes wrong, head for Ambleton. It’s a large town on the highway, about fifteen kilometres up the coast. There’ll be a sheriff there and you should be safe. I’ll catch up with you eventually.’

She looked at him doubtfully. ‘Make sure you do.’

‘Trust me,’ he said. Then he added, ‘There’s another thing. Once I get a fire started on the ship, there’s a better than even chance that the Iberians won’t wait around. They may well launch her and take her out to sea. After all, if they lose her, they’re finished.’

‘And it’ll be ten or eleven hours before the tide will let them back in,’ Maddie said.

‘Exactly. So that will cut down the numbers we’re facing. Any questions?’

She looked at him. He was putting himself at enormous risk, she knew. Her part in this was dangerous, but he was the one exposing himself to the enemy, in order to lead them away from her and the prisoners as she made their way north. But she couldn’t think of a way to express this to him, so she finally answered.

‘No. It all seems clear.’

‘Good. Well, we’ve got five hours before we need to start moving. Might as well get some rest.’

He settled back, his head pillowed on his saddle, arms crossed on his chest, and pulled his cowl over his face. Maddie’s stomach was churning with the anticipation of the night to come. Her nerves were taut as a bowstring.

‘How can you sleep at a time like this?’ she asked but the only answer was a low snore. She looked at him suspiciously. In the time she had been with him, she had never before heard him snore.

‘You’re faking,’ she said.

‘No. I’m really fast asleep,’ came his voice from under the cowl.

Will rested for several hours. As the shadows began to lengthen, he rose and stretched. Then he fetched the case that held his spare arrows and the saddle bag where he kept his equipment. He unlaced the top of the case, glanced inside, then brought out half a dozen arrows. Maddie moved closer to watch him. The arrows were all wrapped in an open weave cloth just behind their broadheads.

‘What are they?’ she asked curiously. She hadn’t seen them before. He glanced up at her.

‘Fire arrows,’ he said. ‘It makes sense to always have a few prepared. The cloth behind the broadhead changes the weight distribution. So when I make them, I rebalance them to make sure they fly the same as a normal arrow. I’ve also made them a little longer than my normal arrows so I can get a full draw. Obviously, once the tip is on fire, I can’t draw one of these all the way back to the bow.’

‘Do you always carry some with you?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘If I started making them up now, I’d be fiddling around getting the balance right.’

‘It pays to be prepared,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Exactly. You never know when you’re going to need something like this,’ he said, holding up one of the arrows. He took a small wooden cylinder from his equipment bag and unscrewed the lid. The cylinder was really a widemouthed jar containing oil and he slid three of the arrows into the oil, then set the cylinder down carefully, leaving the oil to soak into the cloth-wrapped tips of the arrows. After several minutes, he withdrew them, inspected them to make sure they were completely saturated, then wrapped the tips in a piece of oilcloth to stop the flammable oil evaporating. He placed the other arrows into the oil jar and repeated the process.

Maddie watched him, fascinated. Once again, the thought occurred to her that there was more to being a Ranger than shooting straight and moving silently.

‘How are you going to light them?’ she said. ‘If you start striking a flint and lighting a fire, they’ll spot you before you can get a shot away.’

‘I’ll take a dark lantern,’ Will said. He showed her a small metal lantern with a candle inside. There was a shutter at the front that opened and closed, alternately blocking or releasing the light from the flame.

She shook her head in admiration. ‘You’ve thought of everything,’ she said. But Will looked up at her and shook his head solemnly.

‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘No matter how thoroughly you plan, no matter how much you think you know, you’ve never thought of everything.’

MADDIE CROUCHED AT
the top of the path leading down to the beach. The kidnappers and the ship’s crew were gathered in the mess tent, finishing their evening meal. The table was brightly illuminated by half a dozen lanterns. That’ll make it easier to remain unseen, she thought. If the men were looking into the light cast by the lanterns, their night vision would be ruined.

Most of them were seated round the table. Donald and Thomas, the two men who had been in the camp when she and Will first arrived, prepared and served the meal. They then sat on the ground with their own food, a few metres away from the fire.

The kidnappers and the sailors seemed to be in good spirits. Their conversation was noisy and animated, and laughter broke out frequently. She guessed they had good reason to be content. They had ten captives to take off to the Socorran slave markets.

The moon rose over the ocean, bathing the water in silver light. The black outline of the ship stood out in stark contrast. Water was lapping around the hull, and the ship was no longer canted to one side.

There was no sign that the captives in the cave had been fed. Presumably, they were given only one meal a day. Ruhl wasn’t the type to waste money feeding his prisoners more than they needed to stay alive.

She waited, squinting at the moon with her hand held out at arm’s length, until it was four finger widths above the horizon. That was the time she had agreed with Will. By now, he’d be making his way down the cliffs on the northern headland of the bay. She moved in a crouch to the beginning of the path. She paused, checking the men in the mess tent once more. But they were busy eating. And, judging by the raucous laughter that came more frequently with each passing minute, they were drinking as well.

She set her bow to one side. It would only be a hindrance as she made her way down the path and, in the dark, she’d probably need both hands free. She wound the sling around her right hand and started down the track to the beach.

The footing was uneven and she went slowly, testing each step. Once she was below the level of the clifftop, she would be all but invisible against the dark cliff face. But if she were to slip and fall, the chances were high that she’d be heard. And someone might come looking to see what had caused the noise.

Her foot slipped as she stepped on a loose layer of pebbles. Several of them clattered over the edge of the path,
bouncing off the rocks below. She froze, her heart in her mouth. To her, the skittering pebbles sounded as loud as an avalanche. Her left hand went to the shot pouch, ready to select and load a lead ball into the sling.

She waited a full minute. But there was no sign that anyone had heard her. Taking even greater care, she set off again, a black, uneven shadow sliding slowly downwards, barely visible against the dark background of the cliff.

She reached the first switchback, where the path angled back on itself. The ground was rough and strewn with small boulders here and she picked her way carefully around the turn. She glanced back over her shoulder at the mess tent. The slavers were still intent upon their food and drink. A loud burst of laughter rang out.

‘Keep making noise,’ she said under her breath. ‘That way, you won’t hear me.’

The second stretch of the track was more even underfoot. She’d been crouching on the rougher ground higher up to maintain her balance, but now she straightened and moved faster until she reached the second switchback. She picked her way carefully around it. There was only twenty metres to go now and she’d be at the bottom. She forced herself to concentrate. With the end of the track in sight, it was tempting to relax and rush. Yet she continued her slow, careful pace, crouching once more, feeling the ground twist underfoot as she stepped on larger rocks, occasionally sinking into unexpected dips and ruts in the track. One was deeper than it looked and she jarred her back as she stepped into it. She grunted in surprise, then froze. But there was no reaction from the men at the mess tent table
and she continued, finally stepping down onto the level ground at the foot of the track.

Now she had to wait once more. As Will had once described it to her, a Ranger’s day seemed to be made up of hours of waiting followed by a few minutes of frantic, frightening action.

She waited now for those frantic minutes to come. Her stomach was a tight knot. The tension was almost unbearable. She had no idea whether Will had reached the rocks at the base of the northern cliff yet. He could have fallen and injured himself. If the path he had found was anything like the one she’d traversed, one incautious step could have left him lying with a broken ankle. Or unconscious.

The longer she waited, the worse the picture in her imagination became. What would she do if Will didn’t fulfil his part of the plan? If he was incapacitated somewhere on that cliff path, how could she get the children away?

It was too late to go for help. Ambleton was the nearest settlement of any size. By the time she got there and brought help back to Hawkshead Bay, the slavers and the children would be long gone, heading for the Socorran slave market and a life of misery.

Could she somehow set fire to the ship, then double back up the beach to release the children? She discarded the idea almost as soon as she thought of it. The chances that she could make it across the open beach unobserved were slim to none. And she needed Will to draw off the pursuit to the south while she got the children safely away.

She thought of another option. She had two dozen arrows in her quiver and there were eighteen men sitting
round the table. She could simply start shooting at them. She’d take them by surprise, possibly drive them off in panic.