So guys, long story short: i broke my arm. it was a really bad break, my arm was at a funny angle and they had to put me under to set it and everything. So, typing is a serious pain in the booty but i have some movement back in my left hand now so I'm trying. There'll be typos and things, obviously, but you should be able to figure it out... enjoy!
The arrow thudded into a tree inches from Will's head. It was dark blue with raven feather fletching, a quivering onyx arrowhead over halfway buried in the tree and quivering. Tied to the end was a note.
Will
You are getting close to the Gathering ground.
No outsiders permitted.
Get rid of the boy.
Will frowned, and looked around for the shooter. Seeing none, he looked over to Sandy. Sandy was pressed flat to the ground, perfectly still, eyes fixed on the general direction the arrow had come from.
"Get to camp," Will told him, hauling him to his feet. Sandy looked at him, wide eyed, then at the arrow in the tree. His eyes caught hold of the note, and his face cleared to a calm expression even though he couldn't read it because of the way Will held it. Sandy grabbed hold of the reins and trotted the horse out of sight.
Will waited a minute after the boy vanished from sight, and then a figure melted out of the trees to stand on the path before Will, a few centimetres taller than himself. The figure was clad in green and grey, and pushed back the cowl of his cloak to reveal his face. Will recognised him as Travis, one of the fifth year apprentices. He recalled that Travis had gotten his longbow last year and had carefully made arrows to go with it, dying them with indigo.
"Who's the boy?" Travis asked, carefully pulling his arrow from the tree and untying the note before sliding it back into his quiver, where another 23 black fletched arrows protruded over his shoulder.
"I was considering taking him as my apprentice. I was going to ask him tonight if he'd like that at camp, over a nice stew of venison," Will said. As an after thought, he added, "And coffee." A grin broke out over Travis's face that he couldn't hide quick enough. Most Ranger's liked coffee, but Will, Halt, and Gilan were famous for their taste for the drink. "Would you care to join us?"
"I would love to, but I'm rather afraid I can't. I'm on border guard for the gathering ground. See you tomorrow, though," Travis said with a grin. Will nodded, and Travis dissolved into the trees. The boy was getting good, he thought. He might give Gilan a run for his money one day. Will turned and walked where Sandy had walked, following the big horse's footprints. He could barely make out the heel print of Sandy's steps.
When he got back to camp, the deer skin was hung on a string from a saddle bag, and meat was roasting on the fire. Some had been set off to the side, obviously for Will to make a stew. In the fire, three loafs of travel bread were cooking. They had been shaped oddly; rather than being flat, they were large balls as tall as wide. The crust was golden brown, another odd thing; normally it was either pasty white, or a burnt color. Gilan had a pot full of water out, and Will's bag of special herbs that he used to make stews. Will arched an eyebrow at the loaves, and he gestured to Sandy. Sandy looked up from poking the fire with the stick, and grinned.
"Butter," Sandy said, motioning to a yellow-white blob wrapped in paper. "We had a cow." Will nodded, and untied a pan from his saddle bag. Often he didn't travel with butter; it melted and made a mess. But, butter wasn't something to be snubbed when they had it.
"May I?" Will asked, gesturing to the butter. Sandy grinned lopsidedly, and passed the butter. He pulled out his throwing knife, and cut off a piece of butter. He put it in the pan and held the pan over the fire, watching it melt and bubble. He sloshed it around the pan, then added the meat to sear it. The meat crisped nicely, and he turned it over to crisp the other side; it added a lot to the flavour and texture of the meat, and made it so it wouldn't stew as long. He dropped the meat in the pot of water, and set it to boil over the fire. He threw in a handful of flower to thicken it, and added herbs and spices and let it boil.
He finally sat back, and Gilan handed him a mug of coffee. He had to pretend not to notice Sandy's barely covered smirk. Sandy pushed the loaves of bread out to the edge of the fire on the stones, so that they wouldn't burn but would stay warm.
"You know," Will said, bringing Gil's and Sandy's eyes to him. "You're very good at tracking, Sandy." Sandy's cheeks turned red, and he looked down at the fire. After a moment, Will added, "I've been a Ranger for a while now. I really should start thinking about getting an apprentice." Sandy's head snapped up, wide eyed.
"Are you...?" Sandy started.
"Well, you can track. You're not totally hopeless with a bow. And you can step quietly. And, you're small," Will said. Anger flitted through Sandy's eyes for a moment at the last statement, but then he realized it wasn't meant as an insult. "Would you care to be my apprentice?"
Alis's mind raced. She hadn't ever intended to get involved with Will or the rangers like this; she had always hoped that he would escort her far away and she'd be able to start out fresh. Sure, she could track; she had to have some way to find the animals she drew. Sure, she knew how a bow works; when she was grounded after sneaking into the woods, she drew the archers that practiced below her window. Sure, she could step quietly; she had to be able to sneak up on the animals she tracked to draw them.
Her height? Yeah she was short, but did he have to go and mention it? It was a sensitive subject. She fidgeted, and was all too conscious of Gilan and Will watching her. She realized with a shock that she did indeed want to be a Ranger's Apprentice. But that would mean there'd be increased exposure, and he might find out who she was; would he return her to the farm? What if he stayed at the fief and the baron recognised her? It was Will's fief that was her home, after all...
"Sandy? Would you care to be my apprentice?" Will repeated, worry in his expression.
"I... I have to think," Alis said, mortified that her voice came out soft and feminine and not the deeper rougher voice she had adopted over the last few days. Luckily, neither Gil nor Will seemed to notice. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying not to look at Will; he looked somewhat confused and slightly hurt. She wished she could explain of course; but that would defeat the purpose.
After long awkward moments of silence, Will said, "The stew will be ready in about 5 minutes... someone get out the plates?" Alis looked up.
"No bowls?" she asked. He shook his head. She paused for a moment, then held out her hand for his already buttery throwing knife. He handed it to her after a moments hesitation, and she stabbed one of the bread loaves. He started and reached out to stop her, but by the time his hand found her wrist she had cut a circle in the top and detached it, leaving a bowl of bread. Realization dawned on his face, and she grinned at him. Gilan stood and got the plates, and she put the breadbowl on the plate with the top to the side to dunk. She carved the other two up just as quickly, and put them on plates as well.
Will now saw a good purpose in the height of the bowls as he spooned in the stew; they held it much better than the flat loaves they normally made, and the butter helped make a thick crust that would keep too much broth from seeping out. They ate quickly, savouring Will's delicious stew and very well some of the best camp bread they've had on the road before. They sat around the fire, and despite Gilan's best efforts, Alisandra didn't join in the conversation Will and Gilan had. After a while, he gave up, and Alis rolled up in her red cloak and slept.
