Ranger's Apprentice 1 & 2 Bindup by John Flanagan

backhand side cut to the sequence the first time?’
    Horace frowned, then understanding dawned in his eyes. He wasn’t sure, but now that the Battlemaster had prompted his memory, he thought that maybe he had.
    â€˜Uh … yes, sir. I think so. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to. It just sort of … happened.’
    Rodney glanced quickly at his drill masters. He could see they understood the significance of what had happened here. He nodded at them, passing a silent message that he wanted nothing made of this – yet.
    â€˜Well, no harm done. But pay attention for the rest of the period and just perform the strokes Sir Karel calls for, all right?’
    Horace came to attention. ‘Yes, sir.’ He snapped his eyes towards the drill master. ‘Sorry, sir!’ he added, and Karel dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand.
    â€˜Pay closer attention in future.’ Karel nodded to Sir Rodney, sensing that the Battlemaster wanted to be on his way. ‘Thank you, sir. Permission to continue?’
    Sir Rodney nodded assent. ‘Carry on, drill master.’ He began to turn away then, as if he’d remembered something else, he turned back, and added casually, ‘Oh, by the way, could I see you in my quarters after classes are dismissed this evening?’
    â€˜Of course, sir,’ said Karel, equally casually, knowing that Sir Rodney wanted to discuss this phenomenon, but didn’t want Horace to be aware of his interest.
    Sir Rodney strolled slowly back to the Battleschool headquarters. Behind him, he heard Karel’s preparatory orders, then the repetitive ‘thud, thud, thud-thud-thud’ of wood on leather padding began once more.

Halt examined the target Will had been shooting at, and nodded.
    â€˜Not bad at all,’ he said. ‘Your shooting is definitely improving.’
    Will couldn’t help grinning. That was high praise indeed from Halt. Halt saw the expression and immediately added, ‘With more practice – a lot more practice – you might even achieve mediocrity.’
    Will wasn’t absolutely sure what mediocrity was but he sensed it wasn’t good. The grin faded and Halt dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand.
    â€˜That’s enough shooting for now. Let’s go,’ he said and set off, striding down a narrow path through the forest.
    â€˜Where are we going?’ Will asked, half running to keep up with the Ranger’s longer strides.
    Halt looked up at the trees above him. ‘Why does this boy ask so many questions?’ he asked the trees.
    Naturally, they didn’t answer.

    They walked for an hour before they came to a small collection of buildings buried deep in the forest.
    Will was aching to ask more questions. But he’d learned by now that Halt wasn’t going to answer them, so he held his tongue and bided his time. Sooner or later, he knew, he’d learn why they’d come here.
    Halt led the way up to the largest of the ramshackle huts, then stopped, signalling for Will to do likewise.
    â€˜Hullo, Old Bob!’ he called.
    Will heard someone moving inside the hut, then a wrinkled, bent figure appeared in the doorway. His beard was long and matted and a dirty white colour. He was almost completely bald. As he moved towards them, grinning and nodding a greeting to Halt, Will caught his breath. Old Bob smelt like a stable. And a none too clean one at that.
    â€˜Morning to you, Ranger!’ said Old Bob. ‘Who’s this you’ve brung to see me?’
    He looked keenly at Will. The eyes were bright and very alert, despite his dirty, unkempt appearance.
    â€˜This is Will, my new apprentice,’ said Halt. ‘Will, this is Old Bob.’
    â€˜Good morning, sir,’ said Will politely. The old man cackled.
    â€˜Calls me sir! Hear that, Ranger, calls me sir! Make a fine Ranger, this one will!’
    Will smiled at him. Dirty as he might be, there was