Thanks a heap to my first ever reviewer, moniquebrown, she is unbelievably awesome and will be remembered forever. I will try to take her advice and not make Karri a mary-sue. She isn't, is she?
All right, answers to questions:
Karraiyen's name is pronounced kah-RYE-yenn. I hope that was clear.
Lines between dialogue… I assume you mean double spacing? All, right, will do…
Quote of the day (generally from Terry Pratchett because he is the best author ever):
"The intelligence of the creature known as a crowd is the square root of the number of people in it." –Terry Pratchett
And again, three cheers for moniquebrown! Hip, hip, hurray! Anyone else care to review? Pretty please?
–Kerowyn6
The next morning found Karri walking down the hill from the village towards the small cottage on the edge of the woods. It was a small one, made of oak beams and thatch, with a couple of horse stalls on the side and a hay loft. She made out the figure of either a small horse or a large pony, she wasn't sure which, munching on some hay.
Finally, gathering her courage, she nocked on the hard oak door. She heard the sound of footsteps, gradually getting closer, and finally the door opened.
"Karraiyen! Please come in," said Will.
She wiped her boots on the mat and stepped inside, looking around as she did so.
The short entranceway was warm, much warmer than outside, and wooden beams stretched up to the ceiling. On a hook on the wall hung the distinctive mottled Ranger cloak. The whole place had a very lived-in feel, as though it had housed generation after generation. There wasn't much to observe in the hall, so she turned her gaze to Will instead.
He was a lot shorter than he had seemed the day before, only slightly taller than her, and she hadn't had her growth spurt yet. She knew twelve-year-olds who were taller he was. Like the day before, he was wearing simple yet well-made clothes.
He led her down the hall and to a small bedroom on the left side of the house. In the room was a simple bed with a pillow and blankets, a small chest of drawers, and a bookshelf.
"This is your room," he told her,"I'm sorry it's rather sparse but I didn't know what you'd want. "
'It's great..." she told him, "Thanks."
He gave a small smile. "No problem. Go ahead and get settled in and then come to the front room for breakfast."
She nodded her assent, and he left the room.
Sitting down on the bed, Karri reviewed the past few days in her mind. Certainly a lot had happened. Apprenticed to a Ranger. That was certainly something she'd never imagined happening.
She arranged her clothes in the tiny dresser and made the bed again, in the special way she always did when she was home. It comforted her, the way the pillow was over the sheet but under the blanket; it reminded her of back home in Caraway Fief. Eventually, her growling stomach got the better of her and she went in search of the breakfast Will had promised.
Breakfast was a simple affair, eggs and porridge washed down with coffee. Karri watched as Will scooped huge spoonfuls of honey into his cup. She wondered what that was about. But apparently he liked it, for he leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly.
After breakfast Will led her to the porch on the back of the cottage and told her to make herself comfortable.
"So," he said, "what do you know about the Ranger Corps?"
"I don't know anything much," she told him.
"Well, then, tell me the modicum that you do know."
"All right..." she began hesitantly, "Um. You go around scaring people and you're good friends with Baron Arald."
Will raised an eyebrow.
"All of us are good friends with Baron Arald? What about, oh, say, Baron Ergell of Seacliff Fief? Does he have any friends?"
"What? Oh, no! Not all of you, just you in particular!"
"But we're not talking about me in particular, are we?"
"No. Okay... Can I restart?"
"Do whatever you want."
"Okay," Karraiyen took a deep breath, "Rangers as a whole make people nervous, people think you're black magicians, and I think that if you disapproved of that rumor than you would have done something about it, so..." she paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, "you like to remain apart form the rest of society, to never let anyone know too much about you."
"Very good," Will said softly,"much better than I did on my first day. Ten years ago I sat on this very porch, trying to bluff my way past the fact that I had no idea who founded the Ranger Corps. Well, since you were telling me the truth when you said you didn't know much about us, I will fill you in. The Ranger Corps was founded one hundred and sixty years ago by King (does someone have the first book on hand, if so what on earth was the king's name please please please?), who decided that Araluen needed an intelligence force. Since then we have acted as informants for the king and, among other things, law enforcers and investigators. Have you ever heard the saying One riot, one Ranger? It means that for every riot or trouble spot there is only need for one Ranger. Unfortunately, this is not always accurate. But you will learn about that later. Recent history is not important right now, you only need to know the basics. Now, since I do not approve of wasting time chatting, please follow me and I will show you our primary weapons."
He led her to a shed on the side of the house and pulled out a strange, squiggly bow, a quiver of black-shafted arrows and a leather cuff.
"This is a recurve bow," he told her, "the bent ends will allow for a farther range with less draw weight than the full longbow," he gestured to the weapon slung over his shoulder, "Obviously, you won't get as far a range as with the full-fledged longbow, but it's a lot better than with a small hunting bow or even most crossbows."
She stared at it in awe.
"Can I try using it?" she asked him.
"If you feel that is a good idea," he handed her the bow and one of the arrows, "The targets are over there, in a little clearing about thirty meters into the forest."
Karri set herself up at one of the targets, nocked an arrow to the string, drew back and fired. She collapsed immediately, pain arcing through her left arm. She looked up at Will, gasping, tears in her eyes.
"What went wrong?" she managed.
"When you let go the string slapped back and hit your forearm. That's why we use these," he handed her the leather cuff.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked, embarrassed and annoyed.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't see you in a rush to ask about what precautions to take," he said, "so I decided to let you understand the consequences of being hasty."
Karri didn't say anything, just glared at him.
"Well," he said brightly, "time for another try. On with the cuff, nock the arrow, draw back, WAIT! Don't rush your shot. Give yourself time to adjust the aim and your position. Speaking of position, left foot back a little, good... Loosen your grip with your left hand, nice... Very good... You're using your back muscles, not just your arm, that's great... And now- lower your bow."
She stared at him in shock.
"What? After I went to all that trouble of getting the right position? I was standing there ages working on that and now you're telling me not to shoot? Why?"
"Precisely because you worked on that position for a while. Your arm was tired. Your shot would not have been very good. Right! Now that we've given your muscles a chance to recuperate, draw, adjust your grip, good, three... four... and fire!"
The arrow arced away across the clearing, so fast Karraiyen had trouble following it with her eyes, and bit deep into the soft wood of the target, some ten inches from the center.
"Not bad," said Will, "Not bad at all. Now, here's another arrow, draw, good, you corrected your grip, and- ah! Don't move your hips forward! It distorts your aim! Try again... draw… two, three, four...fire!"
_
That evening Karraiyen Carsie stumbled back to bed, exhausted. She had had no idea when she accepted the apprenticeship that it would be this unbelievably tiring and difficult. Will had kept her working on her shooting for close on two hours, and then had her lie on her stomach in the grass, motionless, while he sat on the porch, occasionally glancing down at her. He had an uncanny ability of seeing whenever she twitched the slightest bit and would make sarcastic comments along the lines of: Hmmm... what is it I see in the grass over there? Is it a girl trying to lie still and failing miserably? I think it might be. I wonder which imbecile told her that being absolutely still entailed changing position every three minutes whenever she felt a pebble digging into her stomach. And those comments were made all the worse by the fact that he was correct. Karraiyen would find a position that seemed comfortable, and then a couple seconds later she would realize that her left arm was going numb or a twig was jutting into her leg. And her new mentor's arrogant, sarcastic manner hadn't helped. Ugghhhh… she was mediocre with the bow and failing miserably in patience.
When would she find something she was good at?