John Flanagan - The sorcerer of the North

"Norris and the Baron had let things become very slack around here. They wouldn't have stood a chance in a battle. Their men were badly trained, badly drilled and out of condition. At least Norris realized the fact and went along with the banquet idea."

"And a good idea it was," Alyss said quietly. Will pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I suppose it helped that I'd made the crossing of the Stormwhite when I did," he said. "I realized they were short of provisions and they mightn't last the winter without them. By doing things my way, they didn't have to fight for them-and they got to go to a banquet as well." He grinned at the memory once more.

"So they're safely out of the way?" Alyss asked casually. Will shook his head.

"They're still butchering and smoking the meat so it will see them through the winter," he said. "They'll be at Bitteroot Creek for another two or three days, then they'll be on their way."

"Does that mean they're still a danger to the fief?" she asked, but Will hurried to reassure her on that score.

"Gundar's oath still holds," he said. "I trust him totally." He grinned as he added, "Particularly as he knows I'm a personal friend of the Skandian Oberjarl."

"You'll still report on Norris's neglect of his duty, won't you?" Alyss asked. Like the Rangers, the Couriers' main allegiance was to the King. Will nodded.

"I'll have to," he said. "But at least I can report that he's learned his lesson. His men have been drilling nonstop since the morning after the banquet-and that was unpopular timing, I can tell you. In another month or so, he'll have them whipped into shape."

"So things are in good order here?" Alyss said, then added casually, "There'd be no problem if you had to leave for a while?"

Will was reaching for the water pitcher as she said the last few words. His hand froze in midair and he met her eyes. They were serious now, with no hint of the humor and warmth that had been so evident earlier. This, he realized, was business.

"Leave?" he said, and she nodded.

"It's no accident that I'm here, Will. Oh, there were some routine documents to deliver, but Halt and Crowley specifically asked me to take this assignment and give you a message. You're being reassigned."

Will felt a sudden stab of doubt at the words. Perhaps his handling of the Skandian situation hadn't been quite as clever as he thought. Alyss saw the worry written plainly on his face and hastened to reassure him.

"It's no punishment, Will. They were very pleased with the way you handled things-Halt in particular. They have a temporary assignment they need you for."

He felt the weight of doubt lift at her words. "What sort of assignment?"

Alyss shrugged. "I don't know the full details myself yet. It's all highly confidential," she said. "As I said, they wanted me to deliver the message because I was an old friend. That way, people won't begin wondering why you should suddenly disappear after a visit from a Courier. They'll just put it down to the normal Ranger liking for secrecy. Hopefully, they'll think my visit was purely social-particularly with your girlfriend Delia to stoke the fires of gossip."

Will colored slightly. "She's just a friend!" he protested awkwardly.

But Alyss didn't answer. She was pointing at the dog, which had been lying contentedly on the warm stones beside the fire. Now she was awake, her ears flattened against the side of her head, her teeth bared. A low, rumbling growl sounded in her chest. Her gaze was fixed on the door of the cabin.

"There's someone outside," Will said softly.

Motioning for Alyss to remain where she was, Will rose and moved silently to the door. The latch was moving, a fraction at a time, as the person outside tested it to see if it was locked. As the wooden tongue rose from the socket that held it in place, Will took a position on the latch side of the door, flattened against the wall.

He nodded to Alyss, and the girl, quick-witted as always, began talking again, rambling on about Halt and Crowley and how they had sent their greetings to him. She began to describe a meal she had enjoyed with them, going into great detail over the preparation and the skill of the cook, Master Chubb of Redmont.

The door had stopped moving as their conversation had paused. Now, as Alyss began talking once more, it began to inch open, infinitely slowly, the well-oiled hinges making no noise. Will made a mental note to stop oiling the hinges. Halt had always allowed a patina of rust to build up on the hinges to his front door. Nobody can take you by surprise that way, he was fond of saying.

Will frowned. The only person about to be surprised was the intruder outside, he thought. For a moment, he wondered if it might not be Delia, come back to eavesdrop on his conversation with Alyss. Then he abandoned the idea. The dog would never have behaved as she did if that were the case. The door was open about fifteen centimeters now and he could see the hand on the outer latch. A man's left hand, he recognized. And he knew that the right hand would probably hold a weapon of some kind. Alyss let out a rising peal of laughter, presumably to convince the intruder that they were totally preoccupied with her fake conversation. The ruse seemed to work, as the door opened wider and more of the man's arm was visible in the gap.

Will moved quickly, grabbing the man by the wrist with his right hand and pivoting to jerk him forward into the room. At the same time, he let the pivot movement throw his left leg out across the doorway as a barrier, so the outsider was jerked forward and tripped over the outstretched leg.

With a shout of surprise, the man stumbled into the room, propelled by the totally unexpected jerk on his arm, and tumbled over Will's leg, crashing to the floor and knocking a chair flying into one corner as he did so.

But he was fast to recover and he rolled quickly, bounding to his feet to face the Ranger. As Will had expected, there was a weapon in his right hand-a heavy-headed war spear on an ash shaft. He extended it now toward Will in a two-handed grip, the razor-sharp head weaving slightly as if to mesmerize his enemy.

Will didn't move. He stood, balanced on the balls of his feet, ready for instant action. His hands were empty of weapons. Alyss, he noticed with interest, had come to her feet, a long and dangerous-looking dagger in her hand. She held it loosely, looking as if she knew how to use it.

The dog, excited by the sudden flurry of movement, was barking furiously. Without taking his eyes from the intruder, Will called sharply for her to be still. She subsided, growling threateningly while he took stock of the spearman.

He was big and heavy-shouldered, with unkempt black hair and a black beard. The eyes were dark and burning with anger under heavy brows and the large nose had been broken at some time and badly reset so that it had a distinct crook in it. He wore dark clothing a jerkin and woolen trousers, and a dark brown cowled cloak. Will had never seen him before, but he knew who he was.

"John Buttle," he said calmly. "What do you want here?"

An unpleasant smirk touched the man's mouth as he answered. The voice was deep and throaty and his accent and manner of speech marked him as a commoner.

"Know me, do you? Ain't that a prize."

"I know of you," Will replied evenly. "You have a reputation around this fief."

Buttle sneered. "Reputation! Nothing's ever been proved against me. Nothing ever will be."

"That could be because there are never any witnesses left alive when you do your dirty work." Then Will added briskly, "Now get on with it! What are you doing sneaking around my home in the middle of the night?"

For a moment, a puzzled look flicked across Buttle's face. Will's peremptory tone took him by surprise. After all, he was the one who was armed. The small Ranger, who he now saw looked to be still a boy, had no weapons. Oh, he did have what appeared to be an oversized knife at his hip, but Buttle would have him spitted on the spear before he could get that unsheathed. As for the blond girl, her dagger held no fears for him.