Gilan stroked his chin thoughtfully. The news about Maddie was interesting—and gratifying. Appointing a girl as an apprentice Ranger had always been a risk. But it appeared to be working out.
But even more interesting was Will’s attitude and manner. There was a sense of muted enthusiasm as he talked about his apprentice and her abilities. The haunted look, the tension, the morbid obsession with revenge that had been so much a part of him over the past months seemed to have gone. He wasn’t back to his original, cheerful self. But he was definitely improving.
Looks like Halt knew what he was talking about, Gilan thought. Then he wondered why he was surprised by the revelation. Halt usually did know what he was talking about.
He waited while Will placed a cup of steaming, rich coffee in front of him, then said, “So, do you think she’s ready to go on a mission with you?”
He said it casually, but it was a crucial point. Will, torn by grief and fixated on the idea of hunting down Jory Ruhl, had spurned the last two missions Gilan had assigned to him. Gilan felt a surge of relief as he saw his friend considering the point, then nodding.
“Yes. I’d be happy to take her along on a mission. Be good for her at this stage of her training.”
The door opened and Maddie entered. They both turned and fell silent, as people do when the subject of their conversation suddenly appears. Maddie noticed their sudden lack of conversation and looked anxiously from Will to Gilan. Had Will been telling the Commandant of her fall from grace, she wondered?
“I gave Blaze an apple,” she said tentatively. “She seemed to think that was totally inadequate, so I gave her another.”
“She’ll be your slave for life,” Gilan said easily.
Maddie relaxed a little at his friendly tone. She glanced anxiously at Will and, sensing the cause for her concern, he gave a slight shake of the head. He pointed to the cup on the table.
“Coffee’s made,” he said and she sat gratefully, cradling her cup in both hands.
“I drink coffee now,” she told Gilan.
He nodded gravely. “Just as well. It’s a condition of becoming a Ranger.” He saw the look of relief in her eyes and he’d noticed the quick glance that passed between her and Will. Will’s face was deadpan. So deadpan that Gilan knew there was something he wasn’t being told. Then he shrugged mentally. If Will had decided not to tell him, it was probably none of his business, he thought.
“Will says you’re ready to go on a mission with him,” he said. “What do you think?”
She glanced once at her mentor, then looked back to Gilan.
“I’m ready,” she said. “What’s the mission?”
Gilan was pleased with her reply. No hesitating. No uncertainty.
“It’s in Trelleth Fief,” he said. “The Ranger there has been killed.”
Will’s head snapped up instantly. “Killed? Killed by whom?”
Gilan shook his head uncertainly. “There’s no one suspected. He fell from his horse and his neck was broken.”
“So it was an accident?” Maddie said.
Gilan looked at her sceptically. “Possibly. Indeed, that’s the way it looks. But I don’t believe in accidents—not when it’s a Ranger who’s died.”
Will was frowning thoughtfully. “Who’s the Ranger at Trelleth?” He paused and corrected himself. “Or rather, who was he?”
In a small force like the Ranger Corps, everyone knew each other, at least by sight and name. Of course, there were some closer relationships within the ranks as well.
“It was Liam,” Gilan told him. “Remember him?”
Will nodded sadly. He’d been present at Liam’s graduation, the day he was presented with his silver oakleaf. It had been the year that he and Halt and Horace had travelled to Hibernia to track down the cult leader, Tennyson.
“Yes. He was a good type.”
“He was indeed. He was one of the brighter ones among the younger crop of Rangers. We’ll miss him badly.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Will asked.
“Go up to Trelleth and ask around. See if you can find anything suspicious about his death. As I say, I’m always suspicious when a Ranger dies.”
Will glanced at a map of Araluen on the wall of the cabin. Trelleth was a medium-sized fief on the eastern coast of the country. Gilan followed the direction of his gaze.
“The baron there is called Scully. He sent a carrier pigeon with news of Liam’s death. The man who found Liam’s body is a farmer,” he said. “Name of Wendell Gatt. His farm is a large one, about five kilometres south-west of Castle Trelleth.”
Will’s eyes remained fixed on the map. Like Gilan, he distrusted accidents. Particularly in a coastal fief like Trelleth. Coastal fiefs were vulnerable to outsiders—smugglers, pirates and the like. A coastline presented too many opportunities for intruders.
“We’ve nothing to keep us here,” he said. “We’ll start out tomorrow.”
Gilan nodded approvingly. “The sooner the better,” he said. The phrase might well have been the official Ranger motto, Will thought. “Check it out and see if it was just an accident.”
Will turned his gaze from the map to look at his old friend. “And if it wasn’t?”
Gilan made a small hand gesture. “Find out why someone wanted a Ranger dead. And who that someone might be.”
Twenty-nine
They left the following morning, shortly after an early breakfast. Gilan had coffee with them, but he planned to have breakfast later, at Jenny’s eating house. He promised to let Jenny know they were gone so she could arrange to feed and water Sable each day.
They rode north-east, at the usual Ranger travelling pace—cantering for twenty minutes, then dismounting and walking briskly for ten, leading the horses. The horses could maintain this pace hour after hour and it ate up the miles to their destination.
They camped out that evening and reached Trelleth Fief early in the afternoon of the second day. There was a border sign to let them know they were entering the fief, but even more telling was the scent of salt on the air.
“I can smell the sea,” Maddie said.
Will nodded. He remembered the first time he had noticed that fresh, tangy scent. He had been riding to his first Ranger Gathering. He sighed quietly. It seemed like such a long time ago. Then, he shook his head in realisation. It was such a long time ago.
“What do we do now?” Maddie asked. She was curious to see how an investigation like this would be carried out.
“We’ll look at the scene first,” Will said. “We’ll find this farmer…” He hesitated while he searched his memory for the name.
“Wendell Gatt,” Maddie supplied.
He looked at her, a little annoyed. “I know,” he said.
She gave him an innocent look. “Just trying to be helpful. I thought maybe you’d forgotten.”
“I don’t forget things.”
Hah! Tug gave one of those explosive snorts that indicated his derision. Will decided it was best to ignore him. You could never get the last word with a creature who could snort, stamp and shake his mane the way Tug could.
“We’ll look for a hamlet or a farmhouse and ask directions to Gatt’s farm,” he said.
A few minutes later, they came upon a small group of buildings. There was a blacksmith’s forge and a run-down-looking tavern, plus a few houses to accommodate those who worked there. As they approached, a man wearing a leather apron, and with soot stains on his bare arms, emerged from the smithy to greet them.
They learned that Gatt’s farm was a few kilometres further along the road they were travelling. Will thanked the smith and turned Tug’s head back towards the road, but the man called after him.