Fynn, Ranger of Meric Fief, sighed contentedly over his steaming mug of coffee. The last of the dinner dishes had been dried and put away and his gear cleaned and put away. His little three-room cabin glowed like warm amber in the glow of the crackling fire. Best of all, he had an apprentice-free evening.
His young charge had taken the night off to enjoy the village festival and Fynn, without guilt, was feeling a giddy excitement at having the night off.
He lowered himself luxuriously into the soft leather of his fireside armchair, courtesy of the Baron of Meric Castle. Such an extravagant gift from Baron to Ranger would have been frowned upon by the Ranger Commandant, but Fynn saw it as a deserved perk of the job and one he didn't need to rat himself out on. He had made sure not to tell his apprentice, Ayra, where he had gotten such a fine piece from because he was not entirely certain how she, being a bit of a stickler for the rule, would react to the idea that her mentor was not entirely honest all of the time. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt the girl.
He rolled his head back on the soft headrest and relaxed into the fine folds of fabric, dozing to the sound of the sharp crackles of the fire.
It was not too much later that he was awaken from his dozing state from a faint whinny from Fireheart. Someone had arrived at his cabin, on foot, by the sound of it. He started upward out of his chair and grasped his Saxe knife, which was, as always, within easy reach.
It was far too early for Ayra to come back from the festivities. He wondered briefly if she had somehow lost her horse and come back for his assistance, when he reminded himself of how ridiculous that would be. One didn't simply lose a ranger horse.
Someone stubbled up his steps, then he heard a frantic tip-tap-tap-tap and jumped up to peep out the window, grinned in relief and through the door open wide, managing to thoroughly frighten the current occupant of his doorstep.
A boy, no older than twelve, stood shaking on the verandah, looking at Fynn with such fear, as though he was looking for an opportunity to bolt.
"What can I do for you, boy?" Fynn asked sternly, folding his arms and looking down at the youngster.
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disturb you," the boy stuttered, "My pa said to come fetch you, sir, I didn't think you'd—."
Fynn held up a hand to stop the flow. He sighed. He had always felt it a very cruel thing that the common folk would be so scared of the very group of people who had been trained and made available for their own protection.
"It's alright, boy, no need to be afraid, just tell me your problem," he said, trying to keep the exasperation from his tone.
The boy tried again to speak but all that came out was several unintelligible mousy squeaks that made Fynn want to shake the child.
"Take a deep breath," he commanded the boy, 'Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you."
The child stopped his squeaking, took a moment to relax and then said, "My pa thinks it that bad of traveling smugglers. The ones that kidnapped those girls down south a bit?" he looked at the ranger for confirmation.
"Yes, go on," Fynn said, a growing feeling of fear compressing his insides.
"Well, they stole a couple of girls," the boy said, his voice growing quieter with each word, "And they took your ranger girl, too." He didn't wait for an answer and scampered away into the darkness.
Fynn stood stock still for about half a second before jumping into an enraged state of action.
He stabbed his throwing knife and Saxe into their double scabbard, ripped his cloak from it's hook and snagged his bow and quiver. He skipped the steps and jumped off the side of the verandah, running straight for the stables.
Fireheart whinnied nervously, sensing her master's agitation.
What is it? She asked.
"They've got her. I'm an idiot for letting this happen."
Fireheart understood instantly and didn't bother correcting his assertion that he was to blame for Ayra's kidnapping. She seemed to know that there was nothing one could offer in terms of comfort in a situation like this and instead she kept quiet, offering her stable presence as he saddled her up.
Fynn had her saddled and ready in a flash and they tore through the countryside, up the creek, and into the village. It appeared as though every light in the village had been set ablaze. No one was asleep, the streets contained the entire contents of the village population.
Without much delay, he was able to gather news of the kidnappings. Ayra and two other girls, about her age, had left the main festivities and wandered out into the woods beyond the village.
No one had thought much of it until Leah, one of Ayra's companions had rushed into the village, tears streaming down her apple cheeks, wide eyed and screaming. After much consolation, she brokenly stumbled through what she had seen.
Fynn recognized the girl as one Ayra sometimes hung around with. He allowed the friendship because his apprentice had seemed lonely and the girl was the daughter of one of the shop owners in town, a respectable man who held a proper, respectful regard toward Rangers firmly in his mind.
A group of only three men had taken the girls by surprise. Leah had gotten away only because she had hung back a bit from the other girls and she didn't think the men had seen her.
"They…they knocked them unconscious," She whispered, staring into the hard face of the Ranger. If she sought comfort there, she found none.
Fear struck Fynn down to the bone.
Leah continued, "Flung them over their horses and rode off, so…so fast. I couldn't do anything. I wanted to but…but. Oh!" She buried her face in shaking hands that couldn't conceal the aching sobs that racked her thin frame.
Fynn wanted to shake the girl, demand the direction the men had taken, any details that might help him, but he forced his training to take control, instead of the monster of impatience that raged in his stomach.
He knelt, reached up and removed the girl's hands so he could look into her eyes, "I need just one more thing from you, Leah. Just tell me which direction they took, if you can. That's all I need. I'll bring your friends back."
She sniffed and lifted her eyes to his, wiping away a tear before it could fall on his palm, "They went west," she murmured, "Toward Redmont."
Redmont. Will Treaty.
He felt a vague wave of relief wash over him, if only for a moment. If they were headed toward Will, there was a chance the Legendary Ranger would catch wind of the group and be on their tail. If not, Fynn would enlist the man's help if he had the chance. Then, he remembered Will's new apprentice, a fifteen-year-old girl, El.
He had to get to Redmont as fast as Fireheart could carry them.
That turned out to be very fast indeed.
A chill wind whipped the Autumn air, crawling beneath the cloaks of the two shivering Rangers, mounted high above the ground on their horses.
The two companions had been riding for several hours, utilizing the long-range travelling technique of the Ranger Corps to their advantage, eating up mile upon mile of the terrain. They kept to the main roads, surrounded on either side by the darkening overhanging canopies of the deep forests of Redmont Fief.
Will signaled for his companion to stop so his words could be heard over the hiss of the wind.
Fynn slowed his horse to a quiet stroll and shook the cowl of his hood back to reveal a strikingly youthful countenance, despite his greying hair, now lined with anxiety.
"The tracks suggest we've got another day's ride," Will said, "We should get some rest now and press on early tomorrow morning."
Though Fynn saw the sense in his friend's words, he found himself wanting to protest. If they burnt themselves out now, they'd be no use to the captives when they found them, and yet he felt a restless pull to find his apprentice as soon as possible.
Instead, wordlessly, he nodded confirmation and dismounted.
The two Rangers led their mounts into the safety of the canopies of the darkening wood. They found a small clearing, no more than a tiny empty space between two trees to set up their makeshift camp.
"No fire," Will said.
Fynn chuckled ruefully humorlessly as he loosened Fireheart's saddle, his stone-grey mare, "I was afraid you were going to say that," he said, as he began rubbing down his young mare.
"I don't want to risk it," Will said, "They could be closer than we think."
Fynn nodded, "They can't be too far away now. Not with the horses acting this way."
Tug and Fireheart had been noticeably more frolicky and talkative the last few miles. It was as though they could sense that they were near the group they were looking for and were letting their masters know.
Fynn handed Will a few pieces of dried meat and a couple of figs before turning abruptly back to his saddle bags and saying, "Make yourself comfortable, get a some shut eye if you can, I'll take the watch. I don't want to be here for more than a few hours. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave."
Will cleared his throat, "Fynn, you should get some rest yourself. It's not healthy, going so long without sleep." He sighed, "It's not your fault—."
"Save your breath, Will. I won't rest until she's safe in my cabin and the men that took her are dead," Fynn's dark expression brooked no argument.
He stalked to the edge of the camp, and chose a little clump of foliage to settle in for the watch. He notched an arrow to his bow and held another loosely above that one, ready and waiting.
Will cursed quietly under his breath, angry that Fynn wouldn't listen to reason, and worried that the guilt-ridden Ranger might do something incredibly stupid to make up for it. He wrapped himself tighter against the cold and set about rubbing down Tug.
Fynn was constantly sick with worry, muttering to himself about the things he would do to those men once they caught up with them. Will was filled with grief and sympathy for the man's apprentice. She was not just Fynn's apprentice, she was a Ranger's Apprentice. When the time came, Will would have no qualms ending the lives of the men who had set their hands on that girl in an instant.
He didn't think Fynn would have the decency to just kill them. The wrathful Ranger seemed ready to make them suffer.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Let me know what you liked and what can be improved!