Hello! Sorry for the wait.

Welcome to Chapter 4. As I promised, in this chapter our Rangers get a surprise they weren't expecting. How they handle it - you'll have to find out. What it is - read to learn. As I said in the first chapter's author note, I'm adding a slight dash of magic into the world. That's part of the surprise that's in store. And, perhaps, this little surprise might come in handy during future endeavors.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Chapter 4: New, and Surprising, Aid

Berrigan, the former Ranger of Weslon Fief, was the next recruit. That meant traveling through another fief to reach him, but he was the closest of recently excused Rangers. Leander hung back from the group at first. His brown eyes continuously wandered over Crowley and Halt, analyzing them and mentally marking down their habits and mannerisms. When he did join into the chats and banter, it was with seamless ease. Raina had immediately taken a liking to the new companion. She was content sitting in his saddle, listening to Crowley and Halt's friendly bickering or to Leander's soothing deep voice as he talked to her. On the first night, Crowley had filled Leander in on what little he knew of Halt and Raina. Leander had readily agreed to help them bolster her knowledge, keep her calm and resting, and teach her what care and love meant. He also readily accepted the two other Rangers as the cooks of their merry group. In return, Leander performed the menial chores. Halt was glad for Leander's company. It meant more sleep at night, more eyes watching for trouble, more hands to care for Raina, and another person to take Crowley's insufferable singing and whistling.

Three days into their travels from Leander's cabin, Crowley spotted the stone marking Weslon Fief's boundaries. Raina, who was in Crowley's lap, sat straighter. Her brown eyes roamed over the land in search of this stone. Crowley smiled and pointed it out to her. Leander nodded approvingly from where he was riding on Halt's right. Halt, who was in the middle of three, kept his gaze locked ahead. They had Leander. The ball was rolling on their end now. Time was not on their side and they needed a big ball to stop Morgarath's plans.

Crowley spoke up after Raina had seen the stone, "Should be another half a day before we reach Castle Weslon."

Leander tilted his head right and pursed his lips, "Berrigan…Think I remember him. He was the singer, wasn't he?"

The redhead nodded and smiled, "That's right. He played the gitarra and sang. He was the one who composed 'Cabin in the Trees'."

"What's that?" Halt asked, his attention snapping to the conversation.

Raina twisted in the saddle to look up at Crowley. Like Halt, she didn't know what 'Cabin in the Trees' was. Her curiosity had been aroused. Rangers were interesting people. It seemed as if they always had information to share. It seemed there were always secrets to be learned from them. And, of course, there was the adventure of learning about the Rangers themselves.

However, it was Leander who answered Halt's question, "It's the Ranger song. It's sung at all our Gatherings."

The two Rangers began to sing. Raina listened attentively as they sang. It was song of love and loss. Hope and tinge of sadness mixed together. In all, it was a beautiful song. The young girl had grown up listening to many singers who had "new and original" material. Yet nothing she ever heard matched this song. Leaning back and resting against Crowley's chest and stomach, Raina decided she liked the song. This Berrigan fellow was quite a song writer. She smiled. Another half a day and she would meet him. After that would come other Rangers. Each one would be different, unique. She was excited to begin meeting them all.

Crowley and Leander stopped after the second verse. Leander sighed contently. His horse shook its mane as if wondering why they stopped. Halt briefly let a smile touch his lips. The smile vanished quickly, however, as Crowley started up something new. Raina smirked as the grizzled Ranger turned slowly to his redheaded companion. His dark eyes were filled with annoyance. Both hands gripped Declan's reins tighter out of irritation. For a minute or two, Halt's mouth worked to come up with the words he wanted. Raina tilted her head at him. Crowley wasn't doing anything harmful. Why was Halt so upset?

After all, Crowley was only whistling the rest of the song.

"You're making a strange shrieking noise," Halt finally said.

Leander perked up at that point. Crowley looked at his friend. Confusion was clearly evident in his eyes. He didn't know he was whistling. At first, he wondered if Halt had been talking to Leander. The Hibernian's eyes were locked on him. His mind cast around in search of anything that might equate to a "strange shrieking noise".

Raina coughed softly. "You were whistling, Crowley," she forced out.

Bright, humor-filled eyes blinked once. Then he looked up at Halt, "It's music."

"Not from where I'm sitting," Halt growled.

That made Leander started laughing. Raina covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. Crowley rolled his eyes at Halt. Gently his hand patted the girl's head. She needed to calm down. Her limited energy supply would deplete rapidly. Halt spurred his horse ahead of his companions. He was resolutely ignoring Leander. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and Crowley in case the redhead started whistling again. Raina whimpered and reached for Leander. The stocky Ranger moved his horse closer. Easily he and Crowley moved her. She snuggled in. A smile of joy touched her lips. One good thing about Leander was that he was the perfect person to curl up against and fall asleep. The Ranger smiled. Softly he spoke to her. He knew his deep voice only aid her sleepy body.

Two minutes later, Raina was sound asleep.

Rippling notes danced and flitted in the taproom of the Jolly Frog. Raina had a warm smile on her lips as she listened to the song's beginning. A short man with a gray tunic, brown pants, and a double-knife scabbard was sitting against a wall. Between him and the wall was a table. Across the back of the chair hung his mottled cloak. Nimble fingers flew over the strings in a complex rhythm. Crowley had entered first, finding a suitable table and making the pretense of asking for a room. Leander followed once Berrigan changed to a new song. Near the end of that one, Halt had entered with Raina. None of the patrons had noticed them sit together. Berrigan had been too preoccupied to notice. Yet, somehow, Raina knew that the former Ranger sensed their presence. His playing hand was never far from his weapons. If they attacked, he would be ready. She smiled as the taproom filled with many voices. They were singing the song's chorus. Even she recognized 'Sadie in the Stables' from when a minstrel would sing in her town. Her family never allowed singers to enter their home – said they were thieves waiting for the opportunity to steal everything of value. Mentally she laughed at how wrong they were. She could just imagine them meeting Berrigan for the first time. The Ranger would probably have some harsh lessons for them to learn.

The door suddenly smashed open. Berrigan's head snapped up. Crowley and Halt slowly reached for their weapons. Leander gingerly placed her on the wooden bench he sat on. As the four soldiers spread out to surround Berrigan, Leander's hands slowly reached for his bow and arrows. Raina hunched lower. Her eyes darted over the glittering armor. It was good defense. However, it often had vulnerable spots. Those spots were easy to take advantage of – if one knew how to get to them. Brown eyes turned ice cold as the fifth man entered. Self-importance rolled off him in waves. He had no real authority. He was just a puffed-up rooster cawing at a dog. His eyes darted around the taproom, ensuring the soldiers had it under control. Seeing everything was going his way, the "Ranger" turned to Berrigan.

His ornate cape, for it was too short to be a proper cloak, of green silk swished as he set his feet apart. His rat-like face was emphasized by the high, up-turned collar. An oakleaf designed was stitched in gold thread on the right shoulder. Raina snarled at the blatant disregard for traditional Ranger clothing. The man pointed a thin finger at Berrigan, "Berrigan! You have no right to be here. You're no longer the Ranger of Weslon Fief."

Several villagers muttered under their breaths. Those closest to the hidden group were saying that Berrigan should be allowed to sing without being accused and threatened every second. The soldiers instantly spun to find the talkers. Swords gleamed in the firelight. Crowley laid a reassuring hand on Raina's right shoulder as she flinched.

"There's no need to threaten," Berrigan said calmly to the men-at-arms. The men only glared back at him. He sighed. Turning back to his replacement, he continued in that calm, reasonable tone, "I'm doing no harm here, Willet. I'm just trying to earn a few coins to pay for my dinner. Surely I can do that?"

Raina winced as Willet's high-pitched voice cracked like a whip, "Surely you can't! You've been dismissed from the Ranger Corps on severe charges. And I've been told you've been singing insulting songs about the King! That can be construed as treason. We don't want your kind here in Weslon Fief."

"I was under the impression folks here liked my singing," Berrigan replied nonchalantly with a shrug. His gaze flickered to the hostile soldiers, "And I certainly don't remember singing any insulting, disloyal, or treasonous song about the King."

Willet went silent as several villagers muttered back up statements. The soldiers, however, quickly silenced them. Berrigan made a "stay out of this" gesture with his hands. The villagers ducked their heads, eyes flashing. It made Raina's heart soar. Obviously, these men knew Berrigan did nothing wrong. They were willing to support him.

Willet finally found his voice. He shrilled loudly, "You sang about how the King has trouble with wind!"

"Oh! You are referring to the song 'Good King Artur, the Terrible Farter'. Is that it?" Berrigan asked politely. Raina saw Leander smirk. The politeness was completely fake. Indeed, a smile was lurking at the corners of Berrigan's mouth.

A flash of annoyance went through Willet's eyes, "Exactly! It's insulting and disloyal. Some can even construe it as treasonous!"

"But the song title says the king's name is Artur. It's not our king. It's a silly doggerel song made for the countryfolk," Berrigan replied. It was clear by his tone that Berrigan was losing patience with the incompetent man in front of him.

Willet ground his teeth in anger, "That's where you're so clever! You pretend it's about another king, but I know you're referring to our King. You are encouraging people to laugh at him!"

"Not so. I've been singing that song for years," Berrigan replied. He froze as Willet perked up, somehow realizing Willet would seize those words for his own use.

The false Ranger crowed with delight, "So, you admit to the crime! And you admit to having committed it repeatedly!"

Raina winced. Berrigan seemed to have walked into that one. She noted how Leander had slid from his seat. Halt and Crowley had also risen. All three remained in a crouch. To the soldiers, they looked like they were still seated. In an instant, all three could charge to Berrigan's aid. Raina let a small smile touch her lips. She may be small. She may be weakened. Yet she had a secret. It was time to tell her caretakers about it. Rather, it was time to show them.

"Willet," Berrigan said with a sigh. He shook his head at the rat-faced man, "Do you sit awake at night thinking up stupid things to say? Or does it just come naturally to you – on the spur of the moment?"

Several guests in the taproom couldn't suppress their laughter. Even the bartender's lips twitched. Raina had reflexes to cover her mouth, silencing her giggle. Willet spun on the taproom. His eyes were blazing with fury. He turned back to Berrigan, mouth working as his brain sought the words he needed. The soldiers were tense. They were ready to act on any order. The three hidden Rangers shared a glance. They, too, were ready. Willet and his soldiers weren't going to touch Berrigan without a fight.

Willet's voice finally cracked out, "Destroy that instrument, Corporal, and arrest Berrigan!"

The soldiers slowly approached. Berrigan rose, drawing his saxe and pushing his gitarra out of reach in a single fluid motion. He was ready to defend himself and his instrument. The corporal signaled for his men to advance. They had Berrigan outnumbered. Ranger or not, he couldn't stand against all of them. That, however, was when an arrow raced past. It snagged the corporal's cuff, pinning it to a wooden post. The arrow bit deep. As the corporal struggled, he realized the danger they were in. Three other figures stepped from the shadows. Two had saxes drawn and ready. The third had an arrow on his longbow, ready to fire a second shot. Then there was Berrigan. The former Ranger seemed to know instinctively that these hidden figures were allies. A light of recognition flashed through his eyes. Berrigan understood these were fellow Rangers. Willet seemed to understand that too. He backed away, putting the soldiers between him and the newcomers. Villagers pulled away. Two men flipped their tables onto their sides, making it harder for the soldiers to escape. They were on the side of good. They were standing with the Rangers as much as possible.

One soldier, either dumb or not understanding the danger, slashed at one of the men. Halt parried the sword with his saxe, sending the weapon past him. The palm of his hand took the soldier in the nose, shattering it. The guard jumped back reflexively. Blood ran over his hands as he desperately sought to defend his nose from further harm. Crowley engaged with another soldier. Leander put down his bow, using the table to heave up his leg in a powerful kick. Berrigan, ready for the stumbling soldier, smacked him on the helmet with the hilt of his saxe. Ears and head ringing like a bell, the soldier fell to the wooden floor unconscious. His companion followed him as Crowley struck with a powerful left jab. Halt's soldier had tossed his weapon side, unwilling to fight with a broken, hurting nose. The corporal was frozen with shock and horror. Then he let an angered shout. Willet was just slipping through the taproom door. Halt left his heart nearly stop as a smaller shadow followed.

Bursting into the rain, Halt desperately sought a glimpse. The running figure of Willet meant nothing to him. They could catch him later. The ex-prince was more worried about Raina. That's when his eyes spotted movement. A fast racing shadow raced along the buildings. It was easily overtaking Willet. Halt sprinted in that direction. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The snap of powerful jaws closing echoed through the silent night. Willet screamed in pain. The shadow was locked on Willet's left hamstring. After a couple more steps, the fake Ranger hit the ground. He rolled instantly, kicking the form. A bark rang out before the form leaped onto Willet's chest. The head shot down quickly. Halt slowed in shock. At the dog, for the form was indeed a dog, killed Willet. Then the man whimpered in fear.

Stepping up to the two, Halt analyzed the scene. A long-legged, brown dog with straight, pointed ears and large paws, had Willet pinned in the mud. Big brown eyes looked up at him. Happiness and hope shined. That bushy tail began to wag in long, sweeping motions. Locked in the dog's jaw was a broken necklace, holding the oakleaf pendant. Halt gingerly reached out a hand. Instantly dog gave him the oakleaf. It whined happily as he scratched its ears.

Willet suddenly, "Give me back my oakleaf and call off your dog. I'm a King's Ranger."

"You're no Ranger," Halt growled back. He looked at the oakleaf, "This belongs to Berrigan."

His hand signaled for the dog to get off. It did so obediently. Willet scrambled to his feet. Halt struggled not to smile as the man favored his wounded leg. The dog growled threateningly as Willet attempted to hop closer to the Ranger. The man glanced at it, wondering if it would attack him again.

Thinking the dog would attack, Willet backed off a pace before hissing at Halt, "Lord Morgarath will kill you for this!"

"That's as may be," Halt said after a hollow laugh. "But he won't leave you alive to see it. You've failed him, Willet. And you know how he treats failure."

The blood drained from Willet's face. He knew that Morgarath was cruel; a pitiless taskmaster. Those who brought him bad news tended to suffer consequences. Those who failed a task he set never failed again, because they didn't live a moment longer. Halt allowed a grim smile to touch his features at Willet's expression. He knew that would strike a chord. Slowly, threateningly he stepped forward. The dog, head lowered and teeth bared, stepped with him. A low growl began to rise from its chest.

"If I were you," Halt whispered, tone low and deadly serious, "I'd start running. And I'd keep on running till I reached Celtica. Maybe Morgarath won't bother with you there." He paused for a heartbeat. Willet was slowly moving, understanding the same truth. However, he needed a little more of a push. Halt suddenly stepped forward and shouted, "RUN!" Willet, with a gasp of fright, stumbled as he turned around. He was then propelled forward as Halt kicked him firmly in the backside.

Barking, the dog started after the fleeing man. Halt blinked. Instinct told him the dog needed to return. It looked starved and dehydrated. Some old memory stirred in his mind. It was an ancient tale of shapeshifters, capable of taking on common animal forms for brief periods of time. Also, he had seen Raina leave the taproom. She was somewhere out here. His heart began to pound. Could it be? Were the ancient legends true? Was Raina one of them?

"Raina! Return!" Halt shouted.

The dog slid to a halt. It looked back at him in confusion. Then it looked after the fleeing figure. Shaking water from it's pelt, the dog turned back. It trotted up to him, tongue lolling and tail wagging happily. It sat at Halt's side. Brown eyes stared up at him with love, trust, and pure joy. Halt knew that look. Raina always held that look. He signaled towards the taproom. The dog jumped to its paws and raced in front of him. It stopped at the steps, waiting for Halt to pass. When Halt turned to hold the door open, he knew his hunch was correct.

For it was Raina standing where the dog had been, mud on her shoes and hands.

Again, terribly sorry this took so long. School has been a major pain this year. Plus I took a big school trip where I couldn't use WiFi for anything other than schoolwork (the teachers made certain of it somehow).

Anyways, there is Raina's secret – she's a shapeshifter. She can turn into a dog, resembling what I imagine is an older version of today's German Shepherd. Of course, she's only one shade of brown because of her hair. If she were to dye it, her dog form would match that color.

Hope you all liked it. Comment if you have any suggestions for ideas or improvements. Next chapter is pure, adorable fluff.