The Royal Ranger

Two

The first streaks of light were staining the eastern sky. In the parkland surrounding Castle Araluen, birds began singing to herald the coming day—at first in ones or twos, but gradually swelling into a general, joyous chorus. Occasionally, one could be seen flitting between the well-spaced trees, in search of food.

The large castle drawbridge was currently raised. That was a matter of course. It was raised every night at nine o’clock, even though Araluen had been at peace for some years now. Those in command of the castle knew that the peace could be shattered without warning. As King Duncan had said some years previously, “No one ever died from being too careful.”

There was a small wooden footbridge in place across the moat—little more than a pair of planks with rope hand rails. It could be quickly withdrawn in the event of an attack. At its outer end, a pair of sentries stood watch. There were more lookouts on the castle walls, of course. Multiple pairs of eyes scanned the well-tended parkland that stretched for several hundred metres on all sides of the castle, and the thickly wooded forest beyond.

As the two sentries watched, one of them nudged his companion.

“Here she comes,” he said.

A slim figure had emerged from the trees and was striding up the gently sloping grassed field to the castle. The newcomer was dressed in a thigh-length leather hunting vest, belted at the waist and worn over a long-sleeved, thick woollen shirt and wool breeches. The breeches were tucked into knee-high boots of soft, untanned leather.

There was nothing about the figure to indicate that it was a girl. The sentry’s knowledge arose from the fact that this was a regular occurrence. The fifteen-year-old girl often sneaked away from the castle to hunt in the forest, much to the fury of her parents. The castle sentries found this amusing. She was a popular figure among them, bright and cheerful and always ready to share the proceeds of a successful hunt. As a result, they turned a blind eye to her comings and goings, although they didn’t advertise the fact. Her mother, after all, was the Princess Regent Cassandra, and no low-ranking soldier would risk her ill favour, or that of her husband, Sir Horace, the premier knight of the Kingdom.

As Maddie—or, to give her her formal title, Princess Madelyn of Araluen—came closer, she recognised the men on post. They were two of her favourites and her face lit up with a smile.

“Morning, Len. Morning, Gordon. I see you’ve had a quiet night.”

The sentry called Gordon smiled back at her. “That was until a fierce warrior maiden burst out of the forest just now and threatened the castle, your highness,” he said.

She frowned at him. “What have we said about this your highness business? It’s all a bit too formal for five o’clock in the morning.”

The sentry nodded and corrected himself. “Sorry, Princess.”

He glanced back up at the walls of the castle. One of the sentries there waved in acknowledgement of the fact that they had recognised the princess as well. “I assume your parents don’t know you’ve been out hunting?”

Maddie wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t want to bother them,” she said innocently. Gordon raised an eyebrow and grinned conspiratorially. “I’m perfectly safe, as you can see.”

The sentry called Len shrugged uncertainly. “The forest can be dangerous, Princess. You never know.”

Her grin widened. “Not too dangerous for a fierce warrior maiden, surely? And I’m not defenceless, you know. I’ve got my saxe and my sling.”

She touched the long double leather thong that was hanging loosely around her neck. Then, as mention of the sling reminded her of something, she delved into the laden game bag slung over her shoulder.

“By the way, I got a hare and a couple of wood pigeons. Can you use them?”

The sentries exchanged a quick glance. They knew that if Maddie suddenly produced fresh-killed game in the castle, questions would be asked as to how she had obtained it. On the other hand, the addition of some fresh meat would be a welcome change to the soldiers’ table.

Gordon hesitated. “The pigeons are all right, Princess. But the hare? If my wife’s found cooking that up, folks might think I’d been poaching.”

Only the King, his family, or senior officials and warriors had the right to take game such as hares in the environs of the castle. Rangers, of course, hunted wherever they chose, with a fine disregard for such matters. Ordinary people were allowed to hunt smaller animals such as rabbits, pigeons and duck. But a hare was a different matter. A peasant or soldier could be fined for taking one.

Maddie made a dismissive gesture. “If anyone asks, say I gave it to you. I’ll back you up.”

“I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.” Gordon hesitated still, his hand halfway out for the hare.

Maddie laughed carelessly. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Probably wouldn’t be the last. Take it. And you take the pigeons, Len.”

The sentries finally gave in, taking the game and chorusing their thanks. Maddie brushed their gratitude aside.

“Think nothing of it. I don’t want to throw them away and see good food go to waste. And you’re saving me a lot of explanations.”

The guards stowed the animals in the small sentry box that gave them shelter in bad weather. Maddie waved to them and stepped lightly across the footbridge, letting herself into the small wicket beside the main castle gate. The two sentries smiled at each other. This was one of the perks of being assigned to the outside sentry post.

“She’s a nice kid,” Len said.

Gordon, who was the older of the two by some years, agreed. “Like her mother,” he said. Then he added thoughtfully, “Mind you, Princess Cassandra used to stalk us when she sneaked out of the castle as a girl.”

Len raised his eyebrows. “Really? I hadn’t heard that.”

“Oh yes.” Gordon nodded, remembering. “She practised her stalking skills on the sentries. Then she’d let fly with her sling and hit the heads of our spears. A right terror, she was, until we got used to her tricks.”

Len was trying to equate the current Princess Cassandra—the caretaker ruler of the Kingdom—with the picture his companion had drawn of a wild, adventurous tomboy terrorising the castle guards.

“You’d never pick it now. She’s so calm and dignified, isn’t she?”