The Royal Ranger (Ranger's Apprentice)
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Ranger's Apprentice, the international sensation, comes to a close in this twelfth installment.
For fans of Tolkien, Redwall, Game of Thrones, and T.H. White, RANGER'S APPRENTICE delivers fantasy-adventure thrills with real-world historical details.
John Flanagan returns for one final bow to the series that has conquered millions of readers worldwide with this pulse-pounding adventure that brings one era to a close, and ushers in the next
Will Treaty has come a long way from the small boy with dreams of knighthood. Life had other plans for him, and as an apprentice Ranger under Halt, he grew into a legend—the finest Ranger the kingdom has ever known. Yet Will is facing a tragic battle that has left him grim and alone. To add to his problems, the time has come to take on an apprentice of his own, and it’s the last person he ever would have expected. Fighting his personal demons, Will has to win the trust and respect of his difficult new companion—a task that at times seems almost impossible.
. . .
haunted look came over his face. ‘You’re Henry Wheeler,’ the Ranger said. Now the haunted look changed to one of abject fear. The big man shook his head rapidly, spittle flying from his lips as he denied the name. ‘No! I’m Henry Carrier! You’ve got the wrong man! I swear.’ The Ranger’s lips twisted in what might have been a smile. ‘Wheeler . . . Carrier. Not a very imaginative stretch if you’re planning to change your name. And you should have got rid of the Henry.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re
months to come, during the constant, repetitive actions of practice. A person needed that core of interest to keep practising and keep improving. ‘What’s next is our principal weapon,’ he said. ‘The bow.’ HER EYES WERE riveted on the bow as he unwrapped it. She frowned. It was like no other bow she had ever seen. To begin with, it was short, perhaps only two-thirds the length of a normal longbow. And the shape was bizarre, to say the least. The centre section, comprising approximately
tell me. Which is it?’ It wasn’t fair, Maddie thought, the way adults gave you two equally damning alternatives and insisted you pick one. She folded her arms and dropped her eyes from her father’s angry gaze. ‘I’m waiting,’ Horace said. Maddie set her jaw. She glared at her angry parents and they glared back. At last, Cassandra couldn’t endure the silence. ‘Maddie, you’re the heir to the throne. You’ll rule Araluen one day –’ she began, and Maddie seized on the opening she’d created. ‘And
Stealer’s gang had been operating this way for the past twelve months, moving from one fief to another, changing their area of operation frequently, so that no word of their activities ever reached the authorities. Once they settled in a new area, they would begin abducting children. Then, when they had sufficient prisoners – usually ten or twelve – they would move on to the next phase of their operations. The Stealer heard hoofbeats and looked up. One of his scouts had ridden into the camp.
linking them. If one slipped, the two on either side would be dragged down as well. They struggled awkwardly down the rough track. The other men brought up the rear. The track was too narrow to allow them to walk beside their prisoners. At least it meant they couldn’t beat the children with the knotted ropes. Slipping, sliding and stumbling, the line of captured children finally made their awkward way to the level ground. Ruhl and the other two horsemen formed up to bar their way, preventing