The Royal Ranger Book Review

Title: Ranger's Apprentice: The Royal Ranger.

Author: John Flanagan.

Genre: Fiction, Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Humorous.

Plot: Some twenty years after the last Ranger's Apprentice book, Will is now an accomplished Ranger with a grey beard. Famous throughout the land, Will is a living legend. But his world is darkened by tragic grief and his friends are worried. Concerned, Gilan calls a meeting and attempts to find some way to help Will. It is Halt who comes up with a plan to solve two problems: assign Will an apprentice. But not just any apprentice; assign him Horace and Cassandra's rebellious daughter, Maddie.

While at first both have differing reactions to this idea, the pairing proves to be a sound one. Maddie learns humility and to be a King's Ranger, while Will slowly learns to laugh and live again. But when they stumble upon a kidnapping ring and venture to investigate, the plot things and Will faces a challenge he didn't anticipate. Will tragedy strike for a second time in his life?

Likes/Dislikes: This is the twelfth and supposedly final book in the amazing Ranger's Apprentice series. I sincerely doubt that this is the end of the series, as a whole new story twist has just sprouted and branched off. But it is a unique book in the series and I quite enjoyed it. I only wish that it hadn't been a character I liked who died.

Rating: PG-13 and up, mainly for reading level and content {violence}.

Date Report Written: March 4th, 2014.

The Royal Ranger Excerpt

“Gilan,” she said, “you’re looking well.” And apart from those wrinkles, he was.

  He smiled at her. “And you grow more beautiful every day, Pauline,” he replied.

  “What about me?” Halt said, with mock severity. “Do I grow more handsome every day? More impressive, perhaps?”

  Gilan eyed him critically, his head to one side. Then he announced his verdict.

  “Scruffier,” he said.

  Halt raised his eyebrows. “’Scruffier’?” he demanded.

  Gilan nodded. I’m not sure if you’re aware of recent advances in technology, Halt,” he said. “But there a wonderful new invention called scissors. People use them for trimming beards and hair.”

  “Why?”

  Gilan appealed to Pauline. “Still using his saxe knife to do his barbering, is he?”

  Pauline nodded, slipping her hand inside her husband’s arm. “Unless I can catch him at it,” she admitted. Halt regarded them both with a withering look. They both refused to wither, so he abandoned the expression.

  “You show a fine lack of respect for your former mentor,” he told Gilan.

  The younger man shrugged. “It goes with my exalted position as your commander.”

  “Not mine,” Halt said. “I’ve retired.”

  “So I can expect little in the way of deference from you?” Gilan grinned.

  “No. I’ll show proper deference….the day you train your horse to fly back around the castle’s turrets.”
  
                                               ~ Excerpt from Ranger's Apprentice: The Royal Ranger by John Flanagan.

Excerpt: Ranger's Apprentice: The Lost Stories.

Crowley nodded. "It sounds like a good idea to me. Well done, Gilan." Then he frowned. "I'm surprised that Halt didn't reach the same conclusion. He's usually pretty quick on the uptake."

     "I thought the same thing. But remember, Halt was distracted worrying about Will. And he tended to concentrate first on the cases closet to Araluen."

     "Which gave him plenty of opportunity to put his case to me and Duncan," Crowley said. "If he was off in the west at Highcliff, he wouldn't have been able to nag at me every second day to let him go."

      "Whereas I have no reason not to head for Highcliff Fief and leave you to your paperwork," Gilan said.

      Crowley's mouth turned down in an expression of distaste. "Ah yes, the paperwork. You wouldn't consider trading places? You stay and fill in the forms and requisitions. I'll go chasing after Foldar."

     Gilan raised one eyebrow at him. "You're right. I wouldn't consider it."

     "I could order you to do it, I suppose," Crowley said wistfully, and Gilan thought he was only half joking.

     "You could. And I'd probably insult the King in public and have myself banished," he replied.

     Crowley shook his head. "I sometimes wonder if it was a good idea having Halt train apprentices. He seems to teach them no respect for authority."

      "Oh, he teaches us to respect authority," Gilan said innocently. "He just teaches us to ignore it when necessary. I'll get going this afternoon," he added, and Crowley nodded agreement.

      "The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back," he said. It was the Ranger way, after all. No sense letting grass grow under your feet if there was work to be done.

      "There's that. And besides, I should get going before you decide to order me to stay."
                                                      ~ Ranger's Apprentice Book 11: The Lost Stories by John Flanagan.

Excerpt from The Emperor of Nihon-Ja.

"Do you speak Nihon-Jan? When did you learn?"

She shrugged, feeling her pulse settle back to normal now that there was no longer any question about her accompanying the party.

"I've been studying the language for a year or so," she replied. "Mostly using the tranlations George made on his last trip there. I'm not fluent but I can get by."

Will raised both eyebrows. "Well, you learn a new thing every day," he said reflectively.

"In your case, that's no exaggeration," Halt said, completely straight-faced.

Will pursed his lips in annoyance. He'd have to learn not to give Halt openings like that, he thought. Then another question occurred to his grasshopper mind, and he turned to Evanlyn.

"How do we get there? How did you get here, by the way?"

He heard Halt's deep sigh and knew he'd done it again.

"Do you ever," the older Ranger said with great deliberation, "manage to ask just one question at a time? Or does it have to be multiple choice with you?"

Will looked at him in surprise. "Do I do that?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

Halt said nothing. He raised his hands in a "See what I mean?" gesture and appealed to the others in the room. Selethen was amused by the byplay between the two. And, since the enjoyment of this sort of obscure, trivial debate was very much part of the Arridi character, he couldn't help himself. He had to join in.

"Halt," he said, "I could be wrong, but I think you were just guilty of the same fault. I'm sure I heard you ask two questions just then."

"Thank you for pointing that out, Lord Selethen," Halt said with icy formality.

Will grinned at the Wakir, who gravely inclined his head to Halt. Then Will remembered that Evanlyn hadn't answered either of his questions.

"So how did you get here?" he reminded her.

  ~ Excerpt from Ranger's Apprentice Book 10: The Emperor of Nihon-Ja by John Flanagan.

Excerpt: Ranger's Apprentice Book 9: Halt's Peril.

"One Raven Pass?" Horace repeated. "Why One Raven?"

"One raven is sorrow," Will said absently, repeating the old proverb.

Halt nodded. "That's right. The pass is the site of an old battle many years ago. A Scotti army was ambushed in the pass and wiped out to a man. Legend has it that since then, no bird-life will live there. Except for a solitary raven, who appears every year on the anniversary of the battle and whose cries sound like Scotti widows weeping for their men."

"How many years ago did this happen?" Horace asked. Halt shrugged as he rolled up the map and replaced it in his map case.

"Oh, three or four hundred years back, I suppose," he said carelessly.

"And how many years does a raven live?" Horace asked, a small frown furrowing the skin between his eyes. Halt rolled his eyes to heaven, seeing what was coming.

Will tried to step in. "Horace. . . ."

Horace held up a hand to forestall him.

"I mean, it's not as if it's breeding there and this is it's great-great-great-great-grandson raven, is it?" he said. "After all, it's one raven, and one raven can hardly have great-great-great-grandsons on its own, can it?"

"It's a legend, Horace," Halt said deliberately. "It's not meant to be taken literally."

"Still," said Horace doggedly, "why not call it something sensible? Like Battle Pass? Or Ambush Pass?"

Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after Will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree.

"You have no sense of drama or symbolism, do you?" he asked.

"Huh?" replied Horace, not quite understanding. Halt looked around for a convenient tree. Luckily for Horace, there were none in sight.