Action time!

Disclaimer: I dont own ranger's apprentice.


Tracking horses that had barged their way through the forest was so easy a blind man could do it. Moving those horses through the trees must have taken some skill though, and these horse thieves were proving to be very good at handling them.

Abelard easily moved around the crowded trees. Bred to be sure-footed, he barely stumbled or tripped over roots or rocks. Halt kept him at a fast trot, and Will could sense that they were getting closer.

Abelard rumbled one of his warning sounds. "They must be just ahead of us," Halt remarked. He heeled his horse to a stop and stared at the forest in front of him. Will froze, knowing that his master was listening for the horse herd moving through the foliage. With the silence, the two Rangers could hear their quarry crashing somewhere ahead of them. There was faint whinnys and snorts, and then the crack of a whip cut through the air.

For their sake, they better have not laid a hand on Tug, Will thought, gritting his teeth angrily at the notion.

Halt flicked his reins and Abelard proceeded forward, placing his hooves quietly like he'd been trained to do. There was a sloping hill with gouged hoof prints in its surface. Abelard used the gouges as footholds and climbed up easily. Just as he was to crest the hill, Halt stopped him and the two Rangers peered over the other side.

The horses were crossing a creek, bumping into each other and bustling about like sheep. On the edges of the herd were the mounted thieves, keeping the animals moving along and guiding them back if they strayed too far. All of them had wooden batons used to smack the horses' rumps. They were all armed, some with swords and dirks, but most had axes and knives.

Will's heart jumped to his throat when he saw Tug. The little horse was at the back of the herd. Ropes were around his neck and he was resisting against them, gouging his neck with rope burns. Several men hauled him along, heedless of the pain they were causing him. One large man spurred his horse behind the pony, a whip in his hand. Will saw red when he traced his eyes on the whip marks covering his horse's legs and hindquarters.

Halt must have sensed his anger, for he reached a firm hand back and gripped Will's arm, probably to prevent the young man from drawing his bow. "Wait," he said. "Where's the girl?"

Will, with some difficulty, tore his eyes away from the shaggy, struggling gray and scanned the area for Abigail. He spotted her riding Lark, who was led by one of the thieves. Her hands were tied to the saddle horn to keep her from leaping off and running away. Will could see the dry tear marks streaked on her cheeks, but now she glared at her captors with unsuppressed fury.

The thieves finally managed to move Tug across the stream and get the rest of the herd moving. Tug followed them for a few meters before he started resisting again, and the men shouted angrily.

"If he keeps that up, they'll kill him," Halt predicted and Will agreed. His horse was slowing them down and the bandits wanted to get out of the fief as fast as they can. They could just let him go, but he'd only advertise that they were in the immediate area. Will swallowed, fighting down the rage and frustration.

"They'll kill Abigail to," he added grimly. "She'd only give them away."

Halt was silent as he stared at the horses and men who were moving into the forest again. Will knew he needed only a little time to think of a plan. Despite being a fully fledged Ranger himself, Will found himself waiting for Halt to find a way out of this. He was older and more experienced, and at the moment, he was more calm than Will was.

"For now, we will follow them," Halt decided. "If we start shooting arrows here, we might hit the horses or Abigail. We'll wait for them to reach the prairies and then open fire. The man closest to the girl will go down first."


With slow progress, the thieves herded the stolen horses out of the trees and onto the open land of the prairie. They kept the bustling animals in a tight formation, but as soon as they were clear of the forest, they planned to lead the herd at a gallop. They had lost precious time due to the dense forest and the defiant pony that they dragged with them.

The leader of the gang, a bearded man with cold brown eyes and greasy hair, gritted his teeth in frustration. He had a sword on his belt and a shield on his back. The man was getting tired of the pony. His patience was thinning. Why didn't the beast follow the rest of them like all the other horses did? If they kept having to force the horse on, then Redmont's soldiers would catch them for sure.

The leader shook his head in disappointment. He didn't like killing his profit and he could have sold the pony as a stocky packhorse. But if he didn't get rid of the bad apple, he'd lose the whole barrel.

"Bring that one out!" he shouted to his men that hauled the gray. He resisted, digging his heels into the dirt and leaning back on them, but the combination of pulling and whipping made the horse clear the trees.

"Wellis, get rid of that animal!" the leader ordered the man who held the whip. "If we keep him alive, he'll only get us caught!"

The large, brutish crone smirked, showing off his crooked teeth. He dismounted from his horse and unsheathed a large, jagged knife. Tug reared when he saw the flashing metal but could do nothing as the man advanced, knife poised to slash his throat. His arm drew back for the downward strike.

An arrowhead pushed its way through his back and sprouted in his chest. Wellis fell before the leader's eyes, dead before he hit the ground. A gray shafted arrow stuck from his back like a flag. A garbled shout came from behind him, and the leader turned to see another man, the one holding the girl hostage, fall off his horse with a black shafted arrow through his torso.

"Rangers!" someone shouted.

Suddenly, the gray pony lashed out in an explosive struggle. The men holding him did not expect such a thing, and the ropes were torn from their hands and their palms burned from the friction. Seconds later, they went down with arrows in their chests.

The herd neighed and reared, terror-stricken by the commotion and the scent of blood. The mounted thieves fought to contain them, but the horses were on the verge of a stampede.

Two cloaked figures on a stocky horse emerged from the forest, their bows nocked with more deadly shafts. They aimed, drew back the bowstrings, and more of his men went down. The man's eyes flashed to the girl, who was still tied to the saddle. If he got a hold of her, then the Rangers wouldn't shoot him.

He brought his shield in front of him and spurred his horse. Two arrows buried into it, spraying his face with splinters. When he reached the terrified girl, he brought his sword around and laid the edge on her neck.

"Stop shooting!" he shouted to the Rangers. "Or I kill her!"

The Rangers paused in their movements and the leader was able to get a look at them. One was old and bearded, the other young and slight. Their cloaks kept blending in and out with the background, making it difficult to focus on them. The leader shook his head to clear it; now that he had leverage, he could get out of here alive.

From his standing place, Tug accelerated into a gray blur. With an angry squeal, he charged the leader who had his sword pointed at Lark.


"Tug!" Will cried as he watched his beloved horse charge the thief's mount. The leader turned to see the furious gray upon him and yelled as Tug slammed his shoulder at his horse. His beast toppled over, the leader's feet still in the stirrups. As they hit the ground, the man's head landed on a rock anchored in the ground. The air echoed the sickening snap. When his horse regained its feet, the leader's body dangled from the saddle, motionless.

It was too much for the stolen herd. They bolted, sending up a cloud of dust as they galloped at full speed down the prairie. Lark, also frightened of the situation, joined the stampede, taking Abigail with her. The girl's hands were still tied to the saddle horn and she was helpless to control the mare.

"Dammit!" Halt snarled. "We were just about done here and they bolt! This complicates things."

"Maybe not," Will said as an idea popped up in his head. "If we run Abelard ahead of the horses, they'll follow us, and we can lead them back to the Rivera's horse farm."

Tug whinnied and ran off to catch up with the herd, the ropes around his neck flying behind him.

"No wait, Tug!" Will called but the horse paid him no heed. "What's he doing?!"

"I think he's taking the initiative," Halt admonished. He clicked his tongue and Abelard shot after the pony.

Tug ate up the miles in tremendous spurts of speed. Even Abelard was having trouble keeping up. The stocky gray pulled up along side the herd of stricken horses, passing them one by one. As he passed Spur, Tug nickered at the dun before leaving him in the dust. Will swore he saw him gloating.

Tug pulled up to lead the herd, giving Abelard a chance to catch up. Tug's legs were covered with bloody whip lashes yet the little horse was leading the herd at top speed, like he was the boss stallion. But he couldn't keep that up for long.

Lark joined the gray up front. Abigail, who practically grew up on the backs of horses, kept her balance and wasn't panicking like most riders would do. Will gave her an encouraging smile and she nodded, knowing that everything was gonna be fine.

"Tug!" Will called to his horse, as Abelard pulled up next to him. He flicked his ears to show that he was listening to his master. "Turn them around!"

Tug tossed his head and began a gradual turn-around. The herd followed him obediently. Dust clouded the air, getting into the Rangers' eyes. Tug completed the turn and headed back the way they came.

Will glanced behind him, and saw the herd was still following them. Abigail was doing fine on Lark, and Abelard carried him and Halt easily. "Let's bring them home!"


Aven and his father were clearing the wreckage of what was left of their barn. They needed to start immediately on building a new one if they wanted a safe place for their horses. If they were getting them back, that is.

Aven was dragging a stake of burnt lumber away, shirtless and his body slick with sweat and ash, when he spied his younger brother. Mick was staring at the horizon.

He dropped the lumber and walked up to him. "There's work to be done," he said gently.

"I know," Mick replied, not breaking his gaze on the distance. "But I can't work knowing she's in trouble."

Aven couldn't help but agree, yet he had to stay focused and positive, for his family's sake. "Abigail is strong, she'll be fine. And the two Rangers are Halt and Will Treaty. If anybody can bring them back, it's those two. Remember all the stories we here in Wensley?"

Mick didn't respond. In fact, he seemed to have gone rigid. "Aven..."

"Seriously though Mickey," Aven chided. "We need your help if we're going to build a new barn."

"Aven!"

"What?"

"Look!"

Aven looked past his brother and followed his pointing finger. At first, he didn't see what was so important. But as he fixed his eyes, he saw a growing dark blotch coming in their direction. With the quiet and the wind blowing at them, they could hear the sound of thundering hoofbeats.

"We need to move," Aven said. Grabbing Mick's arm, the two brothers ran back to the barn and house. "Mum! Dad! Luke! Get to the side!" the older brother shouted to his family. Hearing the urgency in his voice, they glanced up from their work and saw the stampeding herd getting closer. As the boys reached them, the family gathered near their house and watched as the horses ran.

Their horses. In the lead were two small, stocky horses. One carried the Rangers, the other was the gray they met that morning. Just on their heels was Abigail riding the Palomino mare. It was a sight for sore eyes. It always sent the heart beating faster when you watched a horse herd running together, one of Mother Nature's finest and most brilliant displays.

Tug, Abelard, and Lark sailed over the pasture fence. The other horses followed them without hesitation, each jumping over and thundering into the enclosure. They ran for another couple of meters before slowing down. The herd came to a stop. The Riveras had all their horses back, but most importantly, they had Abigail back.

Will and Halt dismounted. The younger Ranger ran up to the gray and threw his arms around his neck in a hug. Halt cut Abigail's bonds and helped her down. He then stared at the gawking family, their mouths hanging open in shock and awe.

The bearded man waved an arm at the noisy animals behind him. "I believe these are yours."


was that awesome or just awesome? Or not awesome? give me some feedback please!