Ranger's Apprentice 1 & 2 Bindup Read Free Page B

were progressing.
    â€˜Sir!’ Martin said at top volume, causing the Baron to wince slightly. ‘The candidates are assembled!’
    â€˜I can see that,’ Baron Arald replied patiently. ‘Perhaps you might be good enough to ask the Craftmasters to step in as well?’
    â€˜Sir!’ Martin responded, making an attempt to click his heels together. As he was wearing shoes of a soft, pliable leather, the attempt was doomed to failure. He marched towards the main door of the study, all elbows and knees. Will was reminded of a rooster. As Martin laid his hand on the door handle, the Baron stopped him once more.
    â€˜Martin?’ he said softly. As the secretary turned an inquiring look back at him, he continued in the same quiet tone, ‘Ask them. Don’t bellow at them. Craftmasters don’t like that.’
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ said Martin, looking somewhat deflated. He opened the door and, making an obvious effort to speak in a lower tone, said, ‘Craftmasters. The Baron is ready now.’
    The Craftschool heads entered the room in no particular order of precedence. As a group, they admired and respected each other and so rarely stood on strict ceremonial procedure. Sir Rodney, head of the Battleschool, came first. Tall and broad-shouldered like the Baron, he wore the standard battledress of chain mail shirt under a white surcoat emblazoned with his own crest, a scarlet wolfshead. He had earned that crest as a young man, fighting the wolfships of the Skandian sea raiders who constantly harried the Kingdom’s east coast. He wore a sword belt and sword, of course. No knight would be seen in public without one. He was around the Baron’s age, with blue eyes and a face that would have been remarkably handsome if it weren’t for the massively broken nose. He sported an enormous moustache but, unlike the Baron, he had no beard.
    Next came Ulf, the Horsemaster, responsible for the care and training of the castle’s mighty battlehorses. Hehad keen brown eyes, strong, muscular forearms and heavy wrists. He wore a simple leather vest over his woollen shirt and leggings. Tall riding boots of soft leather reached up past his knees.
    Lady Pauline followed Ulf. Slim, grey-haired and elegant, she had been a considerable beauty in her youth and still had the grace and style to turn men’s heads. Lady Pauline, who had been awarded the title in her own right for her work in foreign policy for the Kingdom, was head of the Diplomatic Service in Redmont. Baron Arald regarded her abilities highly and she was one of his close confidants and advisers. Arald often said that girls made the best recruits to the Diplomatic Service. They tended to be more subtle than boys, who gravitated naturally to Battleschool. And while boys constantly looked to physical means as the way of solving problems, girls could be depended on to use their wits.
    It was perhaps only natural that Nigel, the Scribemaster, followed close behind Lady Pauline. They had been discussing matters of mutual interest while they waited for Martin to summon them. Nigel and Lady Pauline were close friends as well as professional colleagues. It was Nigel’s trained scribes who prepared the official documents and communiqués that were so often delivered by Lady Pauline’s diplomats. He also advised on the exact wording of such documents, having an extensive background in legal matters. Nigel was a small, wiry man with a quick, inquisitive face that reminded Will of a ferret. His hair was glossy black, his features were thin and his dark eyes never ceased roaming the room.
    Master Chubb, the Head Chef, came in last of all. Inevitably, he was a fat, round-bellied man, wearing acook’s white jacket and tall hat. He was known to have a terrible temper that could flare as quickly as oil spilt on a fire, and most of the wards treated him with considerable caution. Florid-faced and with red, rapidly receding hair, Master