BY ANY OTHER NAME
This fanfiction contains a mix of original content and book content. Everything that belongs to John Flanagan belongs to John Flanagan. Everything else was inspired by his work but created by me.
Author's Note:
This book is set after the main Ranger's Apprentice series, and does not take into account any of the plot points following The Emperor of Nihon-Ja.
CHAPTER ONE:
The late spring air chilled Meissa, and she pulled the dirty woolen cloak tighter around herself as she waited for dinner. It was unusually cold, and she'd long since lost any weight that might help protect her from the bite. Her stomach growled loudly, and she chewed her lip, hoping it wasn't audible on the street.
It won't be too much longer, she thought. The sky had a golden hue to it, so even though the sun was hidden from view from her position in the alley, she knew it was closing in on twilight. This was the best time, she knew, for looking for scraps. It was at this time that places serving food began to cook in earnest, and that always meant that mistakes were made. A burnt piece of meat here, a too-dry bread loaf there... When she was particularly lucky, the food might simply be extra that a patron had been too full - or had found too unpalatable - to have eaten. Not that any such taste stopped her, hungry as she always was.
Wensley Village was a bustling but peaceful town near to Castle Redmont. Meissa had found her way there three days prior, and was delighted to find that it boasted both an inn and a restaurant from which to scavenge food. She would have to move on to another village soon, she knew, to avoid exposure, but she couldn't bring herself to pass up whatever bits were thrown from the restaurant this evening. The previous night, she'd had a whole leg of pork, over-cooked but still delicious. Tomorrow morning I'll leave, she told herself half-heartedly.
Time seemed to pass slower as the sun set and dusk set in. Bored, Meissa risked adjusting the cowl of her cloak to further hide her face. The gray wool was covered in dust and mud, and stained by grass where she'd rolled as she slept. She never washed it, though; the marks helped to hide her. Only three meters away from the restaurant's back door, she doubted anyone would even notice her - and if they did, all they'd see was a dirty cloth crumpled on the ground.
The door suddenly swung open and noise and light spilled out into the alley. Meissa could hear a woman's voice ring out commandingly, followed by a thwack that sounded like someone had been hit solidly. A kitchen boy emerged, rubbing the back of his head. He didn't even glance at Meissa as he tossed whatever dish he'd burned into the bin nearby.
The tantalizing smell of chicken made her mouth water, but Meissa forced herself to wait several moments after the boy had gone to make sure he didn't return suddenly. Then, moving slowly, she crept animal-like towards the bin.
"Hey! You!"
Meissa froze and forced herself not to turn her head towards the voice. She didn't want to call more attention to herself by moving. Besides, perhaps the man wasn't speaking to her, or might think her only a stray animal. She glanced towards the street without moving a muscle.
A tall man was silhouetted against the twilight. Meissa couldn't see his expression, but as the moments passed she realized he wasn't moving. Not towards her - but not away, either.
Her stomach growled again. She decided to chance it. Springing to her feet, she leaped to the bin and snatched the chicken out of it before running down the alleyway as fast as her legs would carry her.
She could hear the man chasing her. The walls disappeared and she was sprinting across a strip of land towards the woods. She was fast, but months of starvation had left her weak and without her former grace, and she stumbled on a root before she could disappear into the treeline. She rolled into the fall, gaining her footing almost immediately, but it was too late. A hand grabbed her arm tightly.
"Let go of me!" Meissa spat, her voice hoarse from disuse. She fought to pull away. The grip tightened.
"I think not. Who - "
Meissa turned and bit the arm holding her. The man yelped but didn't let go. "What was that for?" he asked reproachfully, and drew a knife from a double scabbard on his belt.
Immediately Meissa stopped struggling. Fear made her throat close up, but she raised her chin defiantly. "I meant no harm to anyone. Take the chicken if you want it so badly." She held out the blackened poultry which she still clutched in her other hand, eyes still on the knife. It was more food than she'd had in longer than she could remember, enough to feed her for several days, but it wasn't worth her life.
"I don't want it. I was more concerned that you were taking something of more value."
"Value is in the eye of the beholder," Meissa said, her voice tight with anger. That chicken could keep me from starving. That's not valuable?
"Undoubtedly." The man lowered his knife, his wary look remaining. "I'm going to let go. Don't run. I will only catch you again, and I'd rather not waste the effort."
Meissa glared at him, but didn't move. He let go of her and stepped back, sheathing the blade and looking at her quizzically. "Well, you're a right mess, aren't you?" he muttered, more to himself than to her. "What am I going to do with you?" Then, to her, "Thievery is a punishable offense, you know."
She didn't respond. Despair made her more angry. I can't go back to that house, she thought forcefully. Even if I have to hurt this man. The thought made her empty stomach twist unpleasantly, but she gritted her teeth. It's my only choice.
Something of her thoughts must have made its way into her expression, because the man took another step back with his hands raised placatingly. "Easy. I'm not going to turn you in tonight."
Meissa made note of the temporal clarification, but breathed a little easier. At least that was something. Enough time to plan. To escape.
The man was staring at her through narrowed, thoughtful eyes, and Meissa became acutely aware of how ragged she must appear to him. Feeling defensive, she crossed her arms with a scowl. "What?"
"Well, nothing to do tonight but clean you up, I suppose." The man shrugged and jerked his head. "Come on, then. And leave the chicken - we'll get you a proper meal at the cabin.
Meissa looked at her charred prize. It was better than most of her pickings in the last season, but she couldn't deny that the thought of a fresh, warm meal made her stomach claw viciously. Maybe it's a trap, she thought. But I'll stay on my guard. She pulled the cowl of her cloak up to hide her face and followed after the man's long stride, keeping to the shadows as they crossed through the village.
Now that the man had his back to her, she surveyed him carefully. He was tall and muscular, with the bearing of a warrior even though he wore a simple, forest green shirt, a leather jerkin, brown breeches, and leather boots. In addition to the knives, he carried a sword at his hip, and a brown and green cloak was thrown over his shoulders. As they entered the woods on the far side of town, Meissa noticed that the mottled pattern made the outline of the man blend into the trees and undergrowth as he moved. If he'd been standing still, she doubted she would have been able to see him at all. Like my cloak. But, looking down at the filthy garment, she noted ruefully, But far better.
It piqued her curiosity, though. Who was this man who knew how to disappear into the forest? And where was he taking her?
As if he sensed her thoughts, he glanced back at her. "I'm taking you back to my cabin so you can eat and rest."
Meissa didn't respond but scanned the trees. The forest was darkening, shadows deepening and spreading as the sun set completely. Ahead, though, a faint lightness still prevailed, caused by the thinning of the brush. A few moments later, they emerged into a wide clearing, complete with a cabin and small stables.
The man had stopped, watching her examine the meadow. Now, when she looked questioningly at him, he gestured broadly. "Welcome," he said. "To the Ranger's Cabin."
It's been so long since I've written fanfiction. *wincing as I stretch sore writing muscles* All jokes aside, however, please let me know your thoughts! Your feedback is incredibly valuable to me!