The Ranger: Chapter 1

         A crack of thunder shook the encampment.  The horses stirred anxiously.  Fat drops of rain began to thud tympanically on the stretched canvas of the tent.  David ran a stone expertly along the edge of his sword.  The light from the tent entrance grew dimmer as the storm began its march over the camp.  He heard scrambling footfalls approach and stop at his tent.  He looked up to see a boy of about 10 standing at the opening of his tent, water dripping off his nose, eyes fixed solidly on David’s sword.

         “May I help you, young man?”  The boy shook off his daze.

         “That’s a fine sword, sir, I’ve never seen one like that,” the boy said in awe.

         “There are very few like it in this part of the world,” David replied, “Did you come just to admire my sword?”

         “Uh, no sir, I come from Lord Marcus, he wishes your presence at once.”

         “Understood, I’m on my way.”  David said abruptly.  The boy scampered off.  David wiped the oil from the blade, and returned it to its subtly ornate scabbard.  He fastened the scabbard to his belt, threw his satchel over his shoulder, and exited the tent.

         He patted his horse on the neck as he exited, as if to reassure it that he would return soon.  He marched down the row of tents, past steaming, faltering fires.  The rain was falling steadily now, and heavier.  The compacted dirt underfoot was becoming soft and slick with mud.  Thunder rumbled through the valley.  He came to a tent larger than most, but just as plain, except for the uniformed guards and the stoic standard-bearer by the entrance.  David exchanged nods of recognition with the guards and entered.

         “David, come, time is short,” said Lord Marcus.  He was standing over a large table with a map.  David didn’t need to look at the map to know what it showed: they were surrounded, cut off from resupply, reinforcements, and communication.  David approached Marcus with a nod of respect.

         “David, you know of our situation.  Scouts have just reported in, aside from some minor changes in position, the Army of the North still has us completely surrounded.  We have an opportunity, however.  My soothsayers tell me this storm will get worse through the rest of the day and throughout the night.”  David glanced briefly and suspiciously at the withered old man sitting in the corner.  “This may be the chance we need.  A man of your particular skills may be able to use the cover of the storm to pass through the enemy’s lines undetected, and go to the city of Redthorne for help.  If they only knew of our situation here, they could muster their army to reinforce us and help us break out of this valley.  Can you do it?”

         David looked at the marked enemy positions on the map.

         “I will have to go on foot, directly to the east, and steal a horse on the edge of their encampment to make it to Redthorne in time.”  David thought as he spoke. “It will be four days at best before they will be able to be here, and that’s if they are willing to help.”

         “I assure you, they will.  Just give this to the city Overseer,” Marcus handed David a polished stone, black as pitch with a strange foreign character engraved in its surface, “Four days is close, but we’ll hold out until you arrive.  Make haste.”

         “Yes, sir.  If you please, Lord Marcus, have someone feed my horse?”

         “Of course.”  Marcus said with a smile.  “Godspeed.”  David nodded and left the tent, headed east.

         The rain was falling in sheets, now, and David marched stalwartly into the cold wind that was driving the rain.  The sun should still be up, but the thick clouds blotted out everything but a dull, twilight gray.  The outermost patrols wished him luck as he passed, and he entered the forest on the edge of the camp.  The rain fell more randomly under the tree cover, being alternately blocked and funneled by the leaves.  The wind whipped the tree tops to and fro violently.  He stopped suddenly.  Before him, what had been a humble forest brook was now raging, rain-swollen torrent.  He stepped forward with caution, and decided that he had little choice in the matter.  He waded in to his thighs and reached out for a small tree that found itself battered by the rapids.  He held to the tree as he continued in past his waist.  The stream flowed with such might that it took all his strength to hold to the tree.  He realized that he was using much of his strength holding to the tree, so he let go, leaping clumsily for the middle of the stream, and thrashed wildly against the rush.  After much paddling and struggling, he reached a tree on the other side, far down stream.  He reeled himself in and stumbled out of the muddy water, the muck of the bank sucking at his boots with every step.  Now clear of the stream, he crumbled, exhausted on the forest floor.  As he lay there, he focused his thoughts as his teacher in the East had taught him, and his breathing slowed to normal, his strained muscles relaxed, and his energy returned.  After a few moments rest, he rose, still tired, but refreshed, and forced himself onward.

         The patrols on the edge of the enemy camp were difficult to find, as they had mostly sought shelter from the gale.  The last light of the day was now gone, and as the storm raged on, David began picking his way cautiously through the enemy encampment.  He weaved between tents, avoided animals, and stayed well clear of firelights.  He heard the guttural foreign grunts of the conversation of the enemy soldiers from within the tents.  There were few outside in the downpour, but he remained cautious just the same, and occasionally had to dart out of view of some passing drunkard .  Periodically a flash of lightning lit up the whole camp, and he could see the immensity of the enemy’s army.  After many slow hours, he finally cleared the last row of tents. 

         He darted from tree to tree, avoiding the eyes of roving patrols that paced lazily along the perimeter, and began looking for a mount to take him to Redthorne.  He found it under the shelter of a thick grove of trees, along with its master.  He waited for several minutes, to ensure no others were watching, and quietly drew his sword.  It was light in his hand, and perfectly balanced, unlike the crude blades many of this country carried.  It matched David perfectly, its slender blade more suited to skilled precision than clumsy thrashing.  Flawless foreign characters adorned the length of the sword, and its edge, as he had ensured earlier, was sharp enough to perform whatever function David needed of it.

         The horse’s master didn’t hear him approach over the howl of the storm, and David was upon him before he could react.  He held the blade to the man’s throat, and attempted to take the horse without killing the man outright, but the man was not agreeable to that, and threw himself backward shouting, and reaching for his own sword.  As he fell the horse jumped backward in alarm, snorting.  As the man brought his sword to bear, David removed his hand with the flick of his wrist, and in another instant his sword had found the man’s throat.  He turned to take the horse, and saw two shadows approaching quickly, alarmed by the shouts. 

         Forcing the approaching men out of his mind, he reached out for the horse, placing his hand on its thick neck, and breathing in deeply, focusing his thoughts once more.  The he felt the tension in the animal subside, and threw himself upon it, pulling himself up onto the saddle.  He whipped the horse around just as the men arrived, and expertly cut down one, then the other, with nary a shout.  He paused to survey the scene, to make sure no others had heard the first man’s alarm.  All was clear.  He flicked his sword quickly, to cast of any blood the rain had not already taken care of, and returned the weapon to its scabbard.  He had far to go to get to Redthorne, and little time to do it.  David urged the horse forward, and the pair charged off into the driving rain.



1421 words.

*I wrote this story originally for the Cramp Contest, and it ended up cut short and felt unfinished due to the word restrictions.  This is the second draft, opened up a bit.  Hope you like it.