Ranger's Apprentice Quick Stories

No Lying - No Fun

Horace had been living in Castle Araluen for just over a year now.

The events that had taken place upon his return from Skandia were still unbelievable to the new knight. He had barely even begun his second year of apprenticeship before he'd left for Skandia. Then, as he returned, he was knighted by the king himself. 

Not only that, but he was given the honor of being placed in the royal guard.

He missed Redmont terribly, along with Will. But Horace had to admit that the crown princess Cassandra made excellent company. She was a beautiful young woman and, though Horace had never ventured to voice his opinion, he thought her beauty grew with every day.

They two had become very close over the past year, often spending free hours doing whatever pleased Cassandra. Horace tagged along as her personal escort. While Duncan might have hesitated at the prospect of any other young man following his daughter around, alone, he had no worry when it came to Horace. The boy was as pure and innocent as they came and, Duncan had to admit, as adequate protection for Cassandra as the two other guards he would have otherwise sent with the princess.

Horace was striding along beside Cassandra now, making their way to the stable. For today's activity, the princess had chosen riding. And Horace couldn't say he was too upset at the choice. He loved interacting with his newly issued battle horse, Kicker.

The two saddled their horses and made their way across the castle courtyard. Horace noticed, admittedly confused by the sight, that the garrison atop the walls smiled meaningfully as the two youths exited the castle walls and entered the beautiful meadow beyond.

Horace wasn't sure what had been so amusing, but he shrugged the thought aside.

"Do you miss Will?" Cassandra asked, and Horace didn't hesitate to reply.

"Yes," he said evenly, casting an interested glance toward Cassandra. "Do you?"

As she always did when discussing their Ranger friend, Cassandra had taken on a sad, faraway look.

She sighed, looking to Horace.

"Is it bad that I sometimes wish we were back in Skandia?" she asked, her voice high and airy with longing.

Horace frowned.

"Why would you want to be back there?" he questioned, genuinely confused.

Cassandra turned her gaze back out to the meadow.

"I don't know," she admitted awkwardly. "Because there, I wasn't some pampered little princess. I was a fighter. I had a purpose."

"You have a purpose here," Horace insisted. Cassandra scoffed.

"Yes, meeting lords and ladies and international personnel is so much more interesting compared to woodland adventures and battles with seawolves."

Horace watched his friend carefully. He didn't share in her desires to return to the cold land to the north, but he desperately wanted to console the princess. A little awkwardly, he looked away, pretending to be interested in a small groove of trees.

"Let's stop over there," he suggested. "I brought us some lunch."

Cassandra, well aware that Horace was trying to take her mind off of things, smiled thankfully. She nodded and together the two young riders dismounted.

"I'm going to go look for a stream," she said, but Horace shook his head immediately. She rolled her eyes and smiled ruefully. Secretly, she had known he wouldn't let her do that.

"I'll do it," he said, taking the canteen from her. "You stay here by the horses. And call for me if you need me," he added as he walked into the woods. "I won't go too far."

As it turned out, he didn't have to venture too far into the treeline before he found a running stream. Smiling at the sound of the bubbling brook, he refilled the princess' canteen. Re-stoppering the container, he made his way back to the edge of the woods.

"That wasn't too far at all," he said, raising his gaze from a tangle of roots he'd snagged his foot on. As his eyes focused, he felt his heart drop.

"Cassandra?" he called, turning a full circle. His heart beat faster as he found that he couldn't see his friend anywhere.

He had lost the princess.

"Cassandra!" he called out, unsheathing his sword in one, smooth motion. "Princess!"

He ran to the horses, noticing that neither were acting up. That was odd, he thought. Usually they could sense when there was danger.

A sudden crashing sound from behind him caught Horace's attention, and he spun, sword at the ready.

Only to drop it as he found Cassandra, holding her left ankle up, a grimace on her face.

"Cassandra!" he cried, running to the princess' side. He knelt beside her, instinctively wrapping a protective arm around her. "What happened? Who was here?  Did they-"

"No one was here, Horace," Cassandra said, waving away his concern. She laughed, despite her obvious discomfort. "I was trying to scare you, but I fell out of that blasted tree. Rolled my ankle when I landed."

She glanced to Horace, who had gone completely still. She was intrigued to find his cheeks flushed a fierce red color. Confused, she followed his line of sight.

The right sleeve of her dress had been ripped by a limb as she fell, and the sleeve had fallen completely off her arm.

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Horace, it's just my shoulder," she said, though she forced her hair to cover her face as she blushed slightly herself.

Horace cleared his throat.

"Uh... right," he managed. Then he was all business. He gently removed Cassandra's riding boot and her socks, inspecting her ankle closely.

"It's already swelling," he told her, glancing at her worriedly. "Can you move it?"

She nodded, wincing as she rolled the ankle around.

"Just a sprain," she said. Horace nodded thoughtfully.

"All the same, it's best you don't put any strain on it. May I?" He asked the last part as he held his arms out in an open gesture. She nodded, blushing again as she felt his rock-hard muscles flex as he lifted her easily into his arms. Admittedly, she was disappointed when they reached her horse and Horace sat her gently into the saddle.

"Comfortable?" he asked. Cassandra, angry at herself for blushing so much, hid her face with her hair once more.

"Yes, thank you," she replied quickly. Horace mounted up once again, jerking his head in the direction of the castle.

"Best get you back to your father," he said, and Cassandra noticed a hint of guilt in his voice. Of course, being the young man he was, Horace blamed himself for Cassandra's injury and feared that King Duncan would as well.

"I suppose you won't let me tell my father that you fended off a couple bandits that were trying to capture me, and that's how I hurt my ankle?" she asked casually. She had meant it as a joke, but Horace shook his head, completely serious.

"That would be a lie," he commented, and Cassandra snorted.

"'Suppose I'll just have to tell him the truth," she said grimly. "That I fell down a hill."

"Cassandra-" Horace began, in the familiar tone that she knew would bring on a lecture if she didn't relent.

"Oh, fine," she finally conceded. "I'll tell him I fell out of a tree."

Horace nodded approvingly, and Cassandra rolled her eyes, glaring ahead of her.

"You're no fun," she muttered under her breath.