Ranger's Apprentice 7 8/7/09 8:21 AM Page iv
A Random House book
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First published by Random House Australia in 2007
This edition first published in 2009
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009
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National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Flanagan, John, 1944
Title: Erak s ransom / John Flanagan
ISBN: 978 1 86471 910 9 (pbk.)
Series: Flanagan, John, 1944 Ranger s apprentice bk. 7
Target audience: For primary school age
Dewey number: A823.4
Cover illustration by Jeremy Reston
Cover design by www.blacksheep-uk.com
Internal design by Mathematics
Typeset in 12/15 pt Caslon Classico by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Printed and bound by Griffin Press, South Australia
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Ranger's Apprentice 7 3/9/07 2:13 PM Page vi
Ranger's Apprentice 7 3/9/07 2:13 PM Page 1
One
he sentry never saw the dark-clad figure ghosting
Tthrough the night towards Castle Araluen.
Merging with the prevailing patterns of light and shade
thrown by the half moon, the interloper seemed to blend
into the fabric of the night, matching the rhythm of the
trees and cloud shadows as they moved with the moderate
wind.
The sentry s post was in the outer cordon, outside the
walls of the massive castle, by the south-eastern tower.
The moat rippled gently behind him, its surface stirred by
the wind so that the reflections of the stars in the dark
water were set shimmering in a thousand tiny points of
light. Before him stretched the massive parkland that
surrounded the castle, carefully tended, immaculately
mown and dotted with fruit and shade trees.
The ground sloped gently away from the castle. There
were trees and small shady dells where couples or individ-
uals could sit and relax and picnic in relative privacy,
- 1 -
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Ranger's Apprentice 7 3/9/07 2:13 PM Page 2
sheltered from the sun. But the trees were small and they
were well spaced out, with plenty of open ground between
them so that concealment would be denied to any large
attacking force. It was a well-ordered compromise between
the provision of privacy and relaxation and the need for
security in an age when an attack could conceivably
happen at any time.
Thirty metres to the left of where the sentry stood, a
picnic table had been fashioned by attaching an old cart-
wheel to the sawn-off stump of what had been a larger tree.
Several rustic benches were placed around the table and a
smaller tree had been planted to one side to shade it at
noon. It was a favourite picnic spot for the knights and
their ladies. It afforded a good overview of the green,
pleasant parklands that sloped away to the distant dark
line of a forest. And it was placed so that it would enjoy
sunshine all year round  so long as the sun was shining.
The intruder was heading towards this table.
The dark figure slipped into the shadows of a small
grove forty metres from the bench, then dropped belly
down to the ground. Taking one last look to get a bearing,
the intruder snaked out of the shadows, face down,
heading for the shelter of the table.
Progress was painstakingly slow. This was obviously a
trained stalker who knew that any rapid movement would
register with the sentry s peripheral vision. As shadows of
clouds passed over the park, the crawling figure would
move with them, rippling unobtrusively across the short
grass, seeming to be just one more moving shadow. The
dark green clothing aided concealment. Black would have
been too dark and would have created too deep a shadow.
- 2 -
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Ranger's Apprentice 7 3/9/07 2:13 PM Page 3
Dark green merged perfectly with the tone of the grass
itself.
It took ten minutes to cover the distance to the table. A
few metres short of the objective, the figure froze as the
guard suddenly stiffened, as if alerted by some sound or
slight movement  or perhaps just an intuitive sense that
all was not quite right. He turned and peered in the general
direction of the table, not even registering the dark,
unmoving shape a few metres from it.
Eventually satisfied that there was no danger, the
sentry shook his head, stamped his feet, marched a few
paces to the right then back to the left, then shifted his
spear to his left hand and rubbed his tired eyes with his
right. He was bored and tired and, he told himself, it was
when you got that way that you started imagining things.
He yawned, then settled into a slump, his weight
resting more on one foot than the other. He sniffed wryly.
He d never get away with that relaxed posture on day-
light sentry duty. But it was after midnight now and the
sergeant of the guard was unlikely to come and check on
him in the next hour.
As the sentry relaxed again, the dark figure slid the last
few metres to the shelter of the table. Rising slowly to a
crouching position, the intruder studied the situation. The
sentry, after his shuffling and stamping, had moved a few
metres further away from the table, but not enough to
cause a problem.
There was a long leather thong knotted around the
intruder s waist. Now, untied, it could be seen to be a sling,
with a soft leather pouch at its centre. A smooth, heavy
stone went into the pouch and the figure rose a little,
- 3 -
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Ranger's Apprentice 7 3/9/07 2:13 PM Page 4
beginning to swing the simple weapon in a wide slow
circle, using a minimal wrist movement and gradually
building up speed.
The sentry became aware of a foreign sound in the
night. It began as a deep-throated, almost inaudible
hum, and slowly grew higher in pitch. The change was so
gradual that he wasn t sure at what point he became aware
of it. It sounded like an insect of some sort, he thought . . .
a giant bee, perhaps. It was difficult to detect the direction
the sound was coming from. Then a memory stirred. One
of the other sentries had mentioned a similar sound some
days previously. He d said it was . . .
CLANG!
An unseen missile smashed into the head of his spear.
The force of the impact snatched the weapon from his
loose grasp, sending it cart-wheeling away from him. His
hand dropped instinctively to the hilt of his sword and he
had it half drawn when a slim figure rose from behind the
table to his left.
The cry of alarm froze in his throat as the intruder
pushed back the dark cowl that had concealed a mass of
blonde hair.
 Relax! It s only me, she said, the amusement obvious
in her voice.
Even in the dark, even at thirty metres distance, the
laughing voice and the distinctive blonde hair marked her
as Cassandra, Crown Princess of Araluen.
- 4 -
Copyright © John Flanagan 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.