Free Ranger's Apprentice 3 & 4 Bindup by John Flanagan Page A

peaceful travellers might well become fearful of bandits, as the thick trees close to the roadside gave ample cover for an ambush. Halt, however, had no such fears. In fact, his mood was so dark that he might well have welcomed an attempt by bandits to rob him of his few belongings.
    His heavy saxe knife and throwing knife were easy to hand under his cloak, and he carried his longbow strung, resting across the pommel of his saddle, in Ranger fashion. One corner of his cloak, specially made for the purpose, folded back from his shoulder, leaving the feathered ends of the two dozen arrows in his quiver within quick, unimpeded reach. It was said that each Ranger carried the lives of twenty-four men in his quiver, such was their uncanny, deadly accuracy with the longbow.
    Aside from these obvious weapons, and his own finely honed instinct for danger, Halt had two other, not so obvious, advantages over any potential attacker. The two Ranger horses, Tug and Abelard, were trained to give quiet warning of the presence of any strangers that they sensed. And now, as Halt rode, Abelard’s ears twitched several times and he and Tug both tossed their heads and snorted.
    Halt reached forward and patted his horse’s neck gently.
    â€˜Good boys,’ he said softly to the two stocky little horses, and their ears twitched in recognition of his words. To any observer, the cloaked rider was merely quietening his mount – a perfectly normal turn of events. In fact, his senses were heightened and his mind was racing. He spoke again, one word.
    â€˜Where?’
    Abelard’s head angled slightly to the left, pointing towards a copse of trees closer to the road than the rest, some fifty metres further on. Halt glanced quickly over his shoulder and noted that Tug, trotting quietly behind him, was looking in the same direction. Both horses had sensed the presence of strangers, or perhaps a stranger, in the trees. Now Halt spoke again.
    â€˜Release.’
    And the two horses, knowing that their warning had been taken and the direction noted, turned their heads back from the direction they had indicated. It was this sort of specialised skill that gave Rangers their uncanny capacity for survival and for anticipating trouble.
    Still apparently totally unaware of the presence of anyone in the trees, Halt rode forward at the same relaxedpace. He smiled grimly to himself as he considered the fact that the horses could only tell him that someone was there. They could not foretell that person’s intentions, or whether or not he was an enemy.
    That would be supernatural power indeed, he thought to himself.
    He was forty metres from the trees now. There were half a dozen of them – bushy and surrounded by heavy undergrowth. They afforded perfect cover for an ambush. Or, he reasoned, for someone who simply wanted shelter from the soft rain that had fallen for the past ten hours or so. From beneath the cowl of his hood, shaded and invisible to any observer, Halt’s eyes darted and searched the thick cover. Abelard, closer now to the potential danger, let go a deep-throated grumbling sound. It was barely audible, and was felt by his rider more as a rumbling vibration in his horse’s barrel chest than anything else. Halt nudged him with one knee.
    â€˜I know,’ he said softly, knowing the shadow of his cowl would hide any movement of his lips.
    This was close enough, he decided. His bow gave him the advantage as long as he stayed at a distance. He tweaked the reins gently and Abelard halted, Tug taking one more pace before he too came to a stop.
    With an easy, fluid motion, Halt reached for an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to the string of his bow. He made no attempt to draw the bow. Years of constant practice made him capable of drawing, aiming, firing and hitting in the blink of an eye.
    â€˜I’d like to see you in the open,’ he called, in a carrying voice. There was a moment’s hesitation, then a