“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE NOT BEING TOO HARD ON HER?” JENNY asked.
Will considered the question for a moment, then shook his head.
“I think I have to be tough, Jen,” he said. “She’s spoiled and willful and arrogant, and I’m going to need to shake that out of her if I’m to make a go of it.”
They were sitting under an awning in the outdoor eating area at the front of Jenny’s restaurant. She gave him an appraising look, then nodded.
“Maybe. But don’t overdo it, will you? I’m sure she’s not a bad kid at heart.”
“Well, I’m trying to remember how Halt treated me,” Will said, “and I’m being guided by that.”
“You said at the time that he treated you horribly,” she said with a smile.
“And you weren’t even a princess.”
“Neither is she now. And that’s what I have to remember. She’s my apprentice and she has no more rights or privileges than any other apprentice.
She gets no special treatment.”
“Just make sure that while you’re not giving her any special treatment you’re not leaning too far in the other direction,” Jenny warned him. “Where is she now, by the way?”
“She’s with Mistress Buttersby, being fitted for her uniforms,” Will said, jerking a thumb down the high street. “At least, Mistress Buttersby is showing her how to alter the clothes so they fit. Maddie’s going to have to do the job herself. She could be some time,” he added wryly.
Jenny looked at him. It was the first trace of humor she’d seen from her
old friend in months. But she was wise enough not to mention it. She filed the thought away. She’d share it with Gilan when next he visited Redmont Fief—
something he did more than was strictly necessary. She knew how much Will was hurting over the loss of Alyss, and she thought it was a stroke of genius to assign Maddie to him as an apprentice. She glanced along the high street and pointed.
“Looks like she’s coming now.”
Maddie was trudging up the shallow hill toward them, her arms encumbered with a pile of garments. Draped awkwardly over her shoulder was a familiar item—the mottled gray-and-green cloak that was standard wear for all Rangers and their apprentices.
“She looks a little overwhelmed,” Jenny added, smiling, as Maddie managed to drop a pair of boots and a leather vest into the dust. As she bent to retrieve them, she spilled more garments. She’d received three uniforms—
woolen shirts and breeches, the leather jerkin and two pairs of boots—along with the cloak, and the mass of clothes was proving hard to manage.
“It’s been an overwhelming day,” Will said. But he made no attempt to rise and move to her assistance. As Maddie came closer, boots, shirts and breeches balanced precariously, Jenny took pity and stood to move quickly to her side.
“Let me help,” she said. Maddie looked up gratefully and relinquished half the load. She followed Jenny into the restaurant and dropped the remaining bundle on a nearby table.
“She gave me the smallest sizes she had, but they’re all way too big,” she said a little breathlessly.
Jenny smiled. “Not surprising. After all, you’re the first girl Ranger.”
“Did she show you how to take them in?” Will asked.
Maddie nodded. “It’s going to take me hours to get them all done.”
“Well, you only need one set for starters. That shouldn’t take too long.
You can get that done this evening after dinner,” Will told her. He wasn’t sure if she’d been looking for sympathy, but if she had, she wasn’t getting any from him.
Jenny and Will had been drinking pressed fruit juice. She signed to her waiter now to bring a third glass for Maddie, who accepted it eagerly and took a deep sip.
“Aaaah. That’s lovely. Thanks,” Maddie said.
“It must be all very different and confusing for you,” Jenny said kindly. “I
hope Will isn’t being too mean to you, Maddie. I’m Jenny, by the way.”
She held out her hand, smiling. Maddie regarded it uncertainly for a moment. She’d more or less come to terms with the strange relationship that now existed between her and Will. After all, as he’d pointed out, he was a senior officer of the realm and technically outranked her. But Jenny was different. Jenny was a commoner. She was a cook—really with no greater status than a servant at Castle Araluen might enjoy. Maddie wasn’t sure that first-name terms were quite proper between them.
But Jenny had been friendly and welcoming, and Maddie didn’t want to upset her. She tried to be tactful. Like most fifteen-year-olds aiming for tact, she was a long way wide of the mark.
“Um . . . I’m not sure that it’s proper for you to call me Maddie,” she said apologetically. “Really, you should call me ‘Princess’ or ‘Your Highness.’”
Jenny’s smile faded and she withdrew her hand. Will’s face clouded with fury at Maddie’s words. Jenny rose and said coldly, “I’ll bear it in mind.” She nodded briefly to Will. “I’ll see you later, Will. I’ve got work to do.”
She walked into the restaurant, her back straight. Maddie looked at Will helplessly and spread her hands in a defeated gesture.
“What? What did I do wrong now? I understand how it is between you and me. But do I have to let everybody speak to me as if I’m a nobody? After all, she’s just a cook.”
“Jenny is one of your father’s oldest friends. And mine. We all grew up together. And she’s known your mother for years. If your mother feels it’s all right for Jenny to call her by her first name, I don’t see why you should be different.”
“But things were different back then. After all, when my mother met you all, she was traveling incognito. It would have been pointless for you to use her title. But I’m not. I’m—”
“You’re a spoiled and arrogant brat who needs to be taught a lesson. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but apparently it has. Follow me.”
He stood abruptly and swept out of the restaurant. Maddie went to follow, juggling boots, jerkin and shirts once more in a jumbled pile.
“And don’t drop anything!” he snapped back at her.
She followed his fast-striding figure up the high street and along the woodland path that led to the cabin. Once there, Will slammed the door open and made his way to the desk against the far wall, rummaging through the papers there until he found what he was looking for.
She stumbled in after him, shedding items of uniform across the verandah and the living room. She paused uncertainly as he turned to face her, an envelope in his hand. He unfolded the single sheet of parchment, then held it out for her.
“Read this,” he said.
She read the first few words on the sheet and started with shock at their content. She glanced quickly to the bottom of the page and saw her mother’s signature, and her father’s, written above their individual seals. There was no doubt. This document was genuine. She went back to the top of the page and read on, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Let it be known that we, the undersigned, hereby renounce all ties with our daughter, Madelyn, and revoke all her titles and privileges as a princess of the realm of Araluen.
She is disinherited as a princess and as our daughter and is to be accorded no privilege or respect formerly due to her as a member of the royal family of Araluen.
Until any further notice, she is to be known and addressed simply as Mistress Madelyn Altman, or, pending the agreement of Ranger Will Treaty to act as her mentor, by the alternative title of Ranger’s Apprentice Madelyn.
This is to take effect immediately, as of the date of this proclamation, and will continue indefinitely until such time as we may decide to reinstate Madelyn to her former position.
Given under our joint names and seals,
HRH Cassandra,
Princess Regent of the kingdom of Araluen and all its territories
Sir Horace Altman,
Premier Knight of the Realm,
Royal Champion
The signatures were scrawled alongside the wax seals. Maddie looked at the date. The order had been written the day before she had left Castle Araluen to ride to Redmont. All the time she had been on the road, she realized, she had been disinherited—a common nobody. Her eyes filled with tears.
“How could they do this?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Do they really hate me so much?”
Will shook his head. “They don’t hate you. They’re simply at the end of their tether. They thought I might need to have this document to make you understand how serious this whole thing is. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to show it to you. But you made it necessary.
“I’ve been telling you, Maddie. You are no longer a princess. And you can no longer behave as if you are. You are my apprentice. You are no better than anyone else here in Redmont—not Jenny, not the stable boy at the castle, not the youngest of the Battleschool apprentices.
“On the other hand, you are no worse than any of those people, either.
You’re an equal among equals.”
Maddie frowned. “But you said Rangers are among the highest-ranking officers in the kingdom . . . ,” she began uncertainly.
“Rangers are. Their apprentices are not. And you’re not officially an apprentice yet. You’ll have that as a courtesy title. But you will train for twelve months before you’re assessed and accepted into the Corps.”
“Twelve months?” She was aghast at the prospect. “Twelve months? I thought—”
“You thought this would all be over in a week or two. Then you’d ride back home, say you’re sorry and convince your parents that you’ve seen the error of your ways and all would be forgiven. Right?”
“Well . . . yes. I suppose so,” she said. She realized how bad it sounded when he said it like that. She also realized that that was exactly how things had gone at least half a dozen times in the past. Her parents would punish her, she’d serve out the time for a day or a week, then apologize abjectly and things would go back to normal. And a few weeks later, she’d be back to her old bad behavior.
“You’ve done it once too often, Maddie,” Will told her seriously.
“Cassandra and Horace have finally had enough. Whether you like it or not, I’m your only hope now.”
Her lip started to quiver and she felt a tear forming in her eye. He noticed it but gave no sign that he had. She’s had a shock, he thought, perhaps the biggest shock of her young life. And now was not the time to let her brood on it.
He pointed to the items of uniform, scattered around the room.
“Gather this lot up,” he said. “Find the best-fitting items. Just shirt,
breeches and boots. No need for the cloak. Lace the boots up tight and be outside in five minutes.”
“Outside?” she said, stunned by the sudden change of subject.
“What . . . ?”
“We’re going for a run. I want to see how fit you are. Five minutes!”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the door, banging it behind him. She heard his boots on the verandah as he headed for the stable at the rear of the cabin, heard Tug call a brief whinny of greeting to his master.
Then she realized that time was wasting and she still had to sort out the best-fitting items of her new clothing. Scrambling to gather them together, she dashed into her room.
She emerged some minutes later. Whether she had gone over her time limit or not she had no idea. But at least Will didn’t comment. He was sitting astride Tug, waiting in the small clearing before the cabin.
“You’re not running?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow.
“I know how fit I am,” he said. “I’ll ride. You’ll run. We’re going to Foxtail Creek. It’s a little settlement eight kilometers from here. Just a nice stroll there and back again.”
He indicated a path leading off through the trees. “Get going.”
She set off through the trees, head back, arms swinging, legs pumping.
She ran smoothly and evenly, setting a good pace. Her stride was balanced and light. Will edged Tug along behind her. The little horse twitched his ears quizzically.
How did she take it?
“Take what?” he asked. Maddie heard his soft comment and turned curiously. He waved her on. “Keep going.”
Being disinherited. How did she handle it?
“ How do you know about that?” This time, Will kept his voice low, so that it was almost inaudible.
I’ve told you. If you know it, I know it.
Not for the first time in his career, Will wondered whether his horse was actually talking to him, or whether he was simply talking to himself. He decided he didn’t want to know the answer to that.
“Well, she wasn’t thrilled,” he replied. Then he raised his voice. “Walk for three hundred paces. Then run again,” he called.
Maddie nodded, without looking back. She slowed to a brisk walk, then, as she reached the three hundred count, began to run again. Will saw her
shoulders go back and her head come up. There was a determined set to her body. He nodded approvingly.
“She’s fit enough,” he said. “And she’s got some of her mother’s steel in her.”
Tug rattled his short mane. I knew she would have.
“Oh really? And how did you know?”
I’m a Ranger horse. We understand good breeding.
And really, there wasn’t a lot Will could say in answer to that.
