"You three are the worst bandits I have ever met." The ranger says dryly, pacing in front of them. "Since you are never going to be out robbing travelers again, or at the very least as to not be an embarrassment, here is where you went wrong.

One, this camp? Way too well put together. It's organized. Well off the trail, but not hidden. It has a fire going, with meat cooking. Meat. The smell alone is a dead giveaway. Who cooks during the heat of the day in summer? Not taking into account, how would one get fresh meat out here?

By hunting it. Meaning you were going to try and rob a trapper or hunter. Both tend to have at least a passing competency with a weapon. Weapon means dangerous means fight rather than them handing over their coin.

Two, you see these weapons? That crossbow is too big for anything smaller than a deer or bear. Or a knight in armor. He added in his head.

Lastly, why would you try and rob people? This fief needs people to work. It's easy money, with a lot of benefits. Zero sense in trying to rob people." The ranger fumes.

"But with how you came at me, why would I expect anything less? You split up, good. But, 'Carrow', your big thing is attacking from above. You fell out of the tree. C'mon.

'Magpie'? You tripped. What's all the muscle and size if you can't stay up? Then I took you down with a single shove. Yeah, 'Bash you good!' how'd that work out for you?

And you- I don't even know your name, and I don't want to. You couldn't even get past the tarp. Pathetic." The ranger stops pacing and turns. "So now you come clean. Whose site is this? Whose weapons are these?"

"They're not yours?" Magpie asks.

"No, they're not."

"You mean you don't know?" He asks dumbfounded.

"Thought it was yours." Carrow grumbles.

"Great. Just great." He pinches his forehead and thinks.

When a slight snap comes form the woods, the ranger whirls around, knife in hand.

"Who's there? Kings Ranger, show yourself!" When no one appears or calls out, he scrambles for his horse and the bow draped on the saddle. A few steps away from the horse, something shoots down and embeds itself in the dirt in front of him, narrowly missing his boots.

"You missed with your-" He looks down, "Scabbard?"

"Anyone knows that if you run around with a sticker like you've got there, you carry a sheathe for it." A voice calls out from his 5 o'clock.

"I'm warning you, my name is Aaron, and I'm a Kings Ranger. Are you the thief I was sent here to find?"

"Would anyone answer that question with a yes?" The voice asks exasperatedly.

"I would."

"Me too." The bandits chime in.

"You all are so stupid." The ranger sighs.

"And you! You're calling me a thief while holding up my things? Really?" the voice accuses.

"I'm arresting you on suspicion of being a thief. Come quietly and I won't hurt you." He announces, pulling out his knife. He fishes for the other one, but the scabbard is empty.

"Careful, Ranger, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself." The missing knife thunks into the tree by the bandits. "There's no one out here to help you."

"Why you!" Aaron reaches for his strikers when he feels the wire on his neck. Immediately, he shoves a hand under it and tries to keep his breathing open. He slips both hands under it and is preparing to yank and push when there is a hook and a tug and suddenly, he is flying arse over teakettle.

He regains focus when he gets the familiar feeling of something razor sharp under your chin. When the wind makes the trees sway, the sun falls directly into his eyes and he blinks back tears until the shadow falls back on him. His assailant is close enough to stab, but too far away to easily flip and pin.

Desperate not to lose, Aaron grabs the boy's arm and tugs it in, trusting that the boy won't actually kill him. While he doesn't get stabbed, and the boy drops the knife, he does get rolled and pounced on, his head slamming into a stone.

"Well boys, welcome sleeping beauty back to the land of the living."

A chorus of "Afternoon" greet Aaron as he regains consciousness.

"Now, seeing as how I don't like you; we have two options. Which would you like first?"

"Option 1?"

"Option! I leave you trussed up tighter than a tax collector's sphincter and disappear. You might be found, might not. If not, you die in a week or so, maybe sooner if the wildlife doesn't like you either."

"and option 2?" aaron asks.

"Option 2, you tell me how to get your pony over there moving, and I drag the four of you to town and turn you in."

"I'm not a criminal!" Aaron protests.

"Sure, that's why you were holding stolen goods and consorting with three well known bandits. Pretty sure thievery is a crime in Arulen. Doesn't matter who you are, the law is the law."

"But I didn't steal anything!" He protests.

"Sure. You were in my camp, holding my arms, taking my prisoners." He thinks for a moment. "Actually, going by the local laws, thievery of the bandits I caught is more poaching than theft. I don't know if that's any improvement."

"I won't tell you."

"Your loss." The boy grabs the bandits leads, having roped them together, and ties them to his own horse. They set off slowly back toward the path,

"Wait! I give! I'll tell you!" Aaron shouts after a few minutes alone in the woods, unable to move.

"Spill." The bounty hunter asks, reappearing in an instant.

"You can't force him to move, just move and he will follow."

"Good boy." Aaron is clapped on the cheek and tied to the horse. His ankle bonds are slashed and they start toward the nearest town.

It takes Aaron a moment to realize what he should have noticed when he was wrestling, "Wait! You're a girl!"

"Any other truly scintillating observations?" She deadpans.

The town of Gwyneth is small and quiet, with not a lot happening on any given day. So, when a line of prisoners lead by a woman with two horses walks down the center of town, it attracts quite a scene.

Aaron can feel his cheeks heat up and the rumors and comments start to reach him. They recognized the ranger cloak. Word would quickly spread. Not even a month into his assignment, and this happens. He is so dead.

They stop at the town jail, where the bounty hunter hands off the prisoners.

"The three bandits on the bounty and one unknown. I don't like the look of the unknown, better contact the baron." She says. The guard is still staring at Aaron.

"What are you waiting for?" She asks again, stepping between he guard and the ranger. He stammers and jumps into action, leading the bandits into their cells.

"I never should have left home." She moans quietly.

Aaron has to groan as he is lead to his cell. Its not bad, as far as cells go. Its got a cot and a pot which is nicer than most. No fire, but its summer anyways. He sits on the cot and wonders how he got into this mess.

She walks away from the jail frustrated, throwing her hands up. Aaron would swear he heard her mutter "men." as she climbed back on her horse.

For a small town, the guards were abysmal at giving directions. One inn, three streets, and they got her lost twice. She gets the horses settled in the stable in the back, leaving a gold piece as payment for the space, walking back to the jail to get her bounty.

The inside is small, but that hardly matters.

"I'm here for the bounty." She says, spreading out the poster on the counter of the desk.

"I'm afraid if your husband wants to claim the bounty he has to come hims-" the guard starts.

"I'm tired of your idiotic sexist society. Make a goddamn exception, for once. I'm not married, I caught them on my own. I even caught the one over there with the fancy cloak when he tried to steal my things. I earned that bounty." She interrupts.

Meekly, he hands over the gold.

"Glad to be of service." She says, stalking back out of the jail.


Another ranger rides into town, nice and slow. He isn't hurried as he makes his way to the jail, calmly stopping his horse by the entryway and dismounting.

Aaron shoots to his feet as the Ranger walks in. "Gilan! Are you here to get me out?"

"You're lucky I was nearby. Not quite. I cleared most of it up, but you stole some weapons from a girl in the woods?"

"I was tracking the bandits. I came across the camp and the weapons. She attacked me!"

"Yes, I heard. I checked it out myself. Did you know that she trapped those bandits?" Gilan asks.

"I caught them!"

"yes, when one tripped on flat land, one fell out of a tree, and one fell into a tarp."

"How did you know?"

"I found the wire trap on the ground, the sawed branch in the tree and the holes from the stakes of the tarp. From her point of view, you tried to poach her captures." Gilan answers amusedly.

"I'll see if I can find her and clear this up. Still, this is going to be a great story for the gathering."

Gilan walks out of the jail and to Blaze.

"Now, where would I go if I were-" Blaze butts her head pushing him toward the inn.

"Right. You always have been smarter than me." He says fondly, rubbing her head. "Lets go meet a huntress."

He spots Aarons horse in the stable, next to an unfamiliar mare. Not the most well taken care of, but someone made an effort to try. Gilan quietly finishes the job, getting all three settled before making his way inside.

Inside, there is only one girl who matches the description he got from his old apprentice.

"Hello there, mind if I join you?" A young man, wearing the same cloak as the one who stole her things stands asking, smiling. She palms the knife and gives him a look.

"I'm not for sale."

"I'd rather not sit next to the crowd." He says. The other tables are full of lumbermen, who are decently into their cups.

"Fine." She says, pulling her cup closer.

"So, I'm Gilan." He waits for a reaction, and when one doesn't come, he pulls his oakleaf up. "I think you have one of these that doesn't belong to you." Gilan's is worn and dented, scuffed a little. Not like the one around her neck, all shiny and new. Her hands twitches toward it, giving up that she has it.

"Put it on the table." He instructs. She tugs it out and slides it to him. "Your apprentice doesn't deserve it, from what I hear."

"Oh?" Gilan says.

"He's arrogant. Prideful. Hides behind his reputation. Overconfident."

"And you're not?"

"I've sailed from far away, survived pirates and a hurricane, survived the foul diseases your country has, watched all of my crewmates die, and managed so far. I can back up my claims."

"But, if I believe you, you are far away from home, in a land not your own, picking fights with-"

"Secret police are not so uncommon." She cuts in.

"With someone who has friends nearby. Are you sure you aren't overconfident? Not even a little?"

"This is over." She hisses, making to leave. Gilan wraps a hand around her arm. "I scream and everyone looks. They already have one ranger in jail, what is one more?" she says quietly. "Let go."

Gilan does. She doesn't know who I am. It's obvious now, but she really doesn't know. "Tell me your name, and you can go."

"Belaina." She vanishes up stairs. No doubt by sunrise, she will be gone.

"So much for a quiet night." He says, paying for his meal and leaving.

Cassandra and Will have to know about this immediately.


After a hard ride back to the castle, with only a brief afterthought to the newly minted ranger lying in a cell, Gilan prepares to meet with his Queen. Cassandra had become a brilliant and powerful Queen, completely overshadowing Horace, who could not be happier. Horace had been quick to make sure that everyone gave her the respect she was due, and then, as far as Kingly duties were concerned, he abdicated to her. He was a simple man, who fell in love with an incredible woman. Still, even if she was the power of the throne, they both needed to know.

"Gilan! What brings you back so soon? What happened?" She asked.

"My liege," He began, observing the formalities of his official duties, "I bring news. The banditry in the fief has been quelled, but not by mine or my former student's efforts. Instead, an outsider corrected the issue. She claims to have come from far away and is the last of her crew. She speaks our tongue, bearing an accent I have never heard. She knows not of our history or our heroes. She bested my former apprentice in his element."

"That is a strange tale, Master Ranger. Do you believe her story to be true?" Cassandra asks, abiding by the formalities.

"The only land she could have come from is the one we hear legend of from the Skandians. Their tales of a fierce land to the west have been thought to be only that, but this may prove them to be true after all. Indeed, a ship was found south, wrecked on the shoals with dead men inside. A few rumors of crazed men, sick and spouting gibberish have come up the coast. If I were to guess, she is telling the truth of her origins. She knows not how to care for a horse properly, nor much more than basic knowledge of our society. She is an excellent woodswoman, but that doesn't say much."

"I want her brought here, so that I may meet her." Cassandra decides.

"I'll try and get her to come."

"Try?"

"She is very good at her craft. Our best bet may indeed be some subterfuge." He admits.

"What do you have in mind?"

"What are Horace and Will up to these days?"

"Nothing pressing, why?"

"I may ask to borrow them…"