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Informationen zum Autor John Flanagan grew up in Sydney, Australia, hoping to be a writer. John began writing Ranger’s Apprentice for his son, Michael, ten years ago, and is still hard at work on the series and its spinoff, Brotherband Chronicles. He currently lives in the suburb of Manly, Australia, with his wife. In addition to their son, they have two grown daughters and four grandsons. Klappentext The international bestselling series with over 5 million copies sold in the U.S. alone!The renegade outlaw group known as the Outsiders may have been chased from Clonmel, but not before killing Halt's only brother. Now Rangers Halt and Will, along with the young warrior Horace, are in pursuit. The Outsiders have done an effective job of dividing the kingdom into factions and are looking to overtake Araluen. It will take every bit of skill and cunning for the Rangers to survive. Some may not be so lucky. The international bestselling Ranger's Apprentice series turns up the tension in John Flanagan's latest epic of battles and bravery. 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. Normal0falsefalsefalseMicrosoftInternetExplorer4st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }/* Style Definitions */table.MsoNormalTable{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;mso-style-noshow:yes;mso-style-parent:"";mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;mso-para-margin:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination:widow-orphan;font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:#0400;mso-fareast-language:#0400;mso-bidi-language:#0400;} 1. There was a raw wind blowing off the small harbor. It carried the salt of the sea with it, and the smell of imminent rain. The lone rider shrugged. Even though it was late summer, it seemed to have been raining constantly over the past week. Perhaps in this country it rained all the time, no matter what the season. “Summer and winter, nothing but rain,” he said quietly to his horse. Not surprisingly, the horse said nothing. “Except, of course, when it snows,” the rider continued. “Presumably, that’s so you can tell it’s winter.” This time, the horse shook its shaggy mane and vibrated its ears, the way horses do. The rider smiled at it. They were old friends. “You’re a horse of few words, Tug,” Will said. Then, on reflection, he decided that most horses probably were. There had been a time, quite recently, when he had wondered about this habit of his—talking to his horse. Then, mentioning it to Halt over the campfire one night, he’d discovered it was a common trait among Rangers. “Of course we talk to them,” the grizzled Ranger had told him. “Our horses show a lot more common sense than most people. And besides,” he’d added, a note of seriousness creeping into his voice, “we rely on our horses. We trust them and they trust us. Talking to them strengthens the special bond between us.” Will sniffed the air again. There were other smells apparent now, underlying the salt and the rain: Tar. New rope. Dried seaweed. But strangely, there was one scent missing—one he would have expected in any seaport along the eastern coast of Hibernia. There was no smell of fish. No smell of drying nets. “So what do they do here if they don’t fish?” he mused. Aside from the slow clop of his hooves on the uneven cobbles, echoing from the buildings that lined the narrow street, the horse made no answer. But Will thought he already knew. It was why he was here, after all. Port Cael was a smugglers’ town. The streets down by the docks were narrow and winding, in contrast to the wide, well-laid-out streets of the rest of the town. There was only an occasional lantern outside a building to light the way. The buildings themselves were m...
