The Royal Ranger

Twelve

Once the horses were settled in the stable, Will showed Madelyn the small room that would be hers. Remembering his own first day, he had placed a vase of bright wildflowers in the room, just as Halt had done for him, so many years before. But it was going to take more than a bunch of flowers to help Maddie recover from the state of shock and hurt that had overcome her upon her arrival.

She went into the room and shut the door behind her. In his day it had been no more than a curtain, but he had decided that Madelyn might need a more substantial form of privacy while she was with him and had asked Redmont’s carpenters to fit the door before her arrival.

He looked at the closed door, wondering whether to summon her out of the room. But he decided that she’d had enough surprises for one day and let her have a few hours to mull things over.

He prepared dinner—a savoury stew of chicken and potatoes—and as darkness fell, he lit lanterns in the main room of the cabin, and prepared a fire.

The warm, yellow light of the lanterns and the flickering flames of the fire cast a cheerful aura round the room. When he felt she’d had enough time to brood, he rapped gently on the door.

“Maddie,” he said. “Dinner.”

In her room, hunger competed against pride and hurt feelings. After several minutes, hunger won and the door opened. She emerged with as much dignity as she could muster, taking her seat at the table while he served her.

She ate hungrily, noting with surprise how delicious the meal was. She had no idea that Will could cook so well. But the mood between them was still strained, and their conversation was limited to necessities—such as the occasional request for salt or bread to be passed. When she finished, she rose from the table.

“I’m going to my room,” she said. For a moment, she had considered asking permission, but stubbornly discarded the idea.

Will met her gaze, seeing the anger still there. Give her time, he thought, and nodded assent.

“Good idea. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

Maddie lay wide awake on the small bed for hours, listening to the night sounds of the forest around her, and fighting back the tears that threatened to claim her. This was all so different to what she had thought it would be. Will—her loving Uncle Will for so many years—was being grim and distant. His disapproval of her was obvious.

But why, she wondered. What had she done wrong?

In truth, although she wasn’t aware of it herself, Madelyn’s arrogance and bumptiousness stemmed from a feeling of inferiority and a lack of self-esteem.

Her parents were renowned throughout the Kingdom. Horace, her father, was the most skilled knight in Araluen, feared by enemies and respected by friends. He was a larger-than-life figure, a true hero.

And her mother was no less so. She was a princess, of course, and was currently ruling the Kingdom in her father’s place. But she too had earned the approval and respect of her subjects. Her life had been packed full of adventure and achievement.

Against this, what had Maddie done? What could she hope to accomplish? The more she measured herself against her famous parents, the more she found herself lacking.

Tears threatened once more but she knuckled her eyes furiously, forcing them back and refusing to let them fall.

I won’t cry, she told herself furiously, and eventually, with that thought uppermost in her mind, she fell into a restless sleep.

She awoke to the sound of Will quietly clattering pots and pans in the kitchen. For a moment, she had no idea where she was and she looked around the little room, trying to place herself. For the first time, she noticed the bright posy of flowers on the windowsill, and the neatly folded towel on the foot of her bed. Hanging on a peg on the back of the door was a towelling gown—a bathrobe, she guessed.

She rose and opened the door. Will, busy in the small kitchen alcove, heard her and turned.

“Sleep well?” he asked and she nodded. She looked around the small cabin, taking in details for the first time. The previous night, she had been too shocked and confused to notice much. Now she saw there was just one large central room, with a kitchen alcove, and another bedroom leading off from it. Will saw her puzzled expression.

“Wash house is at the back,” he said. “Breakfast in ten minutes.”

She nodded again, uncertain as to how to respond. His tone and manner were not as grim as the previous night. She decided to keep her reaction neutral. She went back into her room, retrieved the towel and the gown, then headed out the door.

Will’s border shepherd was sprawled in the early morning sunshine on the verandah. She thumped her tail in greeting and Maddie stopped to scratch her ears.

“Hello, girl,” she said. “What’s your name?”

Sable, of course, didn’t reply. But she stretched her head back, eyes closed in pleasure, to allow Maddie to fondle her chin and the thick fur under her neck. Maddie gave her a final pat and rose. She looked around her, taking in the sight of the little clearing. It really was a beautiful spot, she decided. The sun was just beginning to show over the tops of the trees, and the air was fresh with the scent of early morning.

She washed under the rudimentary shower bath in the wash house, shivering as the cold water hit. Then she towelled herself briskly, donned the bathrobe and returned to the cabin. Back in her room, she hesitated, wondering what she should wear. She had discarded her clothes on the floor the previous night but, of course, Rose-Jean wasn’t here to pick them up and fold them, and lay out fresh clothes for the day ahead. In fact, her clothes were all in the valises, which were still in the stable.

Finally, she decided she’d don the clothes she’d worn the previous day. Dressed, she went back out into the main room.

Will looked up, nodding a welcome. He was laying a plate on the table.

“I didn’t know how you’d like your eggs,” he said. “I scrambled them.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like eggs at all.”

Will took a deep breath. “You don’t like eggs,” he repeated. She shook her head. “How about bacon?” He glanced towards the cooking stove, where another pan was spluttering cheerfully on the hotplate over the coals.

Again, she shook her head. It struck him that it was a fussy little gesture but he held his temper.

“We have a special air-cured ham that’s made for us by a pork butcher at Castle Araluen,” Maddie said. “It’s so light and delicate. It just melts on your tongue. But bacon?” She shivered dramatically. “Yuck!”

“Well, we don’t have any air-cured ham. Maybe later we could go shopping in Wensley Village and pick up some larks’ tongues instead?” Will suggested, the sarcasm heavy in his tone. She shook her head, ignoring it.

“I like fruit,” she said.

Will heaved a small sigh of relief. “Fruit is good,” he said. He selected a large, shiny apple from a bowl on the kitchen counter and placed it on a plate in front of her. She looked at it uncertainly.

“Apples aren’t fruit?” Will asked.

Maddie made a small gesture. “Well, usually, the servants peel it and slice it for me,” she said.

There was a long silence. They looked at each other. She could sense that, once again, she had annoyed him. Suddenly, he moved, taking the apple off the plate and setting it on the rough wood of the table top.

There was a hiss of steel on leather as his saxe knife leapt from its scabbard at his side. Then he brought it down with a resounding clunk, chopping the apple into two halves that oscillated gently on the table.

“Consider it sliced,” he told her.

Breakfast continued in a strained silence. Will, relenting somewhat, produced a fresh loaf of bread, along with butter and conserves made from raspberries. The conserve had been a gift to him from Jenny and it was his favourite. He wondered wryly why he was giving some of it to Maddie.

She ate it with relish, realising how hungry she had been. Will, for his part, ate the scrambled eggs and bacon that he had prepared earlier. As Maddie finished her bread and jam, he reached behind him to the coffee pot steaming on the stove hotplate. Coffee would set everything right, he thought. Nobody could maintain a sulk when they had a cup of hot, sweet coffee before them.

“Coffee?” he said, already beginning to pour some of the fragrant liquid into her cup.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she told him.

Will’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Why not?” he asked her. “Everyone drinks coffee.”

“Not me. I don’t like the taste. I’d prefer milk if you have it… please,” she added, after a pause.

He accepted that the last word was a major concession on her part. There was a jug of fresh milk cooling under a damp cloth. He fetched it and poured it for her, shaking his head as he watched the creamy white liquid filling her cup.

“How do they expect me to make a Ranger out of you?” he muttered.

She wasn’t sure how she should answer that. Wisely, she remained silent. But the milk was good, she thought.

After breakfast, Will sipped his second cup of coffee. Perhaps there was something to be said for her not drinking the beverage, he thought, if it left extra in the pot for him. Maddie finished her milk and picked up all the stray crust and bread crumbs from her plate.

“That’s excellent bread,” she said. “Did you make it too?” She wasn’t sure how far his cooking skills stretched. But he shook his head.

“There’s a baker in Wensley who brings it over each morning. Actually, in the future, you can go fetch it and save him a trip. That can be one of your we-don’t-have-a-maid duties.”

She sensed he was testing her and refused to rise to the bait. She simply nodded and he went on.

“In addition, you’ll make your bed and tidy your room each morning before breakfast.”

He cast a meaningful look at her room, where the bedclothes were still tumbled and twisted.

“Make my bed? I don’t—”

“Yes, you do. Or did you assume the maid would be doing that for you?”

She set her jaw angrily. “Well, I don’t see why we should live like peasants,” she said. “Rose-Jean could easily come down here each day and—”

“Rose-Jean is gone,” he told her.

For a moment she didn’t comprehend. “Gone? Gone where?”

“Back to Castle Araluen. There was a mail courier wagon leaving earlier this morning and I arranged for her to go with it. Couldn’t have her stumbling around the countryside on her own, could we?”

“But… she was my maid. You had no right to…” She stopped, seeing the hard light in his eyes.

“Maddie, please understand, I have every right. She was your maid when you were the princess. Now you’re a Ranger’s apprentice. And Rangers don’t have maids. I think I mentioned that.”

Will felt a grim twist of amusement as he recalled a similar conversation with Halt in his first few days as an apprentice. What Ranger’s apprentices do is the housework, he remembered Halt telling him.

“In addition,” he added, “you’ll sweep this room each day after breakfast, and clean out the fireplace and stove firebox. And every Friday, you can take the rug outside and beat the dust out of it.”

She glared at him, eyes slitted. He pretended not to notice for a few seconds, then raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Did you have something to say?” he asked.

She answered very deliberately. “May I enquire, who performed these tasks before I arrived?”

Will nodded as if the question was a good one. “Actually, I did,” he told her. “I can see now why Halt enjoyed having apprentices. Should have taken one on long ago myself.”

She said nothing, but rose and made her way into her room, making her bed in a series of brisk, angry movements. When she was finished, she looked around the room and saw that there was only one small curtained-off area for clothes storage. It wouldn’t fit one-tenth of the clothes she’d brought with her.

“Where am I going to keep my clothes?” she demanded.

Will put his head round the door and gestured to the small curtained area. “That should do you,” he told her.

She shook her head and gave a hollow laugh. “That little space will barely fit any of the clothes I brought with me.”

Will waved a hand airily.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’re already on their way back to Castle Araluen with Rose-Jean.”