Ranger's Apprentice: The Lost Stories
John A. Flanagan
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The secret history of the New York Times bestselling Ranger's Apprentice, with over 5 million copies sold in the U.S. alone!
Unconfirmed accounts of a group of Araluen warriors - tales of adventure, battle, and triumph over evil - have spread for centuries throughout the known world. Most notable is a clan shrouded in mystery, phantom warriors known as the Rangers.
Two names pass the lips of every storyteller: Halt, and his apprentice, Will. They and their comrades in arms are said to have traveled throughout the kingdom and beyond its borders, protecting those who needed it most. If true, these rumors can be only part of the story.
Only now, centuries after these men and women walked the earth, do we have confirmation of their existence. Behold The Lost Stories, Book 11 in the Ranger's Apprentice epic.
Perfect for fans of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, T.H. White’s The Sword in the Stone, Christopher Paolini’s Eragon series, and George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire series.
signboard swinging from a beam in front of the porticoed doorway. “That’s what we need!” he said brightly. “An inn. And it’s just about lunchtime.” I just hope there are apples. “You always hope there are apples.” As they rode closer, a slight frown returned to Crowley’s forehead. He could hear raised voices from the inn, and loud laughter. Usually, that sort of sound indicated that someone had taken too much liquor. And these days, with no firm hand ruling the Kingdom, drunkenness was all
that the Hibernian seemed to use that facial reaction quite often. “So you’re in a good mood. Why are you making that shrieking sound?” “I’m whistling. I’m whistling a jaunty tune.” “That’s not whistling. It’s shrieking. At best, it’s shrilling,” Halt replied. Crowley turned in the saddle to regard him with some dignity. “I’ll have you know, my whistling has been widely praised in Hogarth Fief.” “A dour place it must be if people consider that shrill noise to be musical.” The overweight
feet hit the ground. Belatedly, he realized that he would have been better off remounting and riding Abelard. But no sooner had the thought occurred than he burst into a clearing where a small thatched farmhouse stood, smoke curling lazily from its chimney, several cows moving uneasily in the fenced-off paddock beside the house. Another defiant scream, then a man’s voice raised in anger and the unmistakable sound of a blow. A gasp of pain from the woman. “My husband will kill you for that!” she
moment, please, Ranger,” he said. His voice was respectful, even wary. The Ranger Corps’ reputation was the reason for the twofold reaction. The soldier nudged his companion with an elbow.“Run up the yellow flag, Nobby,” he said. Without a word, the second man stepped to a mast nearby, where Gilan could see there were two flags attached to halyards, ready to be run up. One was yellow, the other red. Nobby selected the yellow and hoisted the square of colored cloth to the top of the mast. The flag
years. She told me it’s normal practice for them when they move on to really push the pace for the first few days, particularly if they’ve stolen something. That way, they’re well out of the district by the time the theft is discovered.” “Makes sense,” Will said. He looked up at the sky. The sun was almost setting and there was only half an hour of daylight left. “Do you mind if we push on after dark for a few hours? We’ll try to find a farm to put us up for the night, rather than set up camp