Hello, it's me again after... nearly 5 years.
I wrote this story about 4-5 years ago, based on a passing reference in another one of my fics... and this happened. It's been sitting on my hard-drive during that time, so I thought I may as well publish it. As I said, I wrote this story years ago, so it may/probably contradict canon that has since been released in the prequel series.
This is a temporary return as I'm now focusing on my original writing.
So here it is...
The Mishaps, Misdeeds and Misadventures of Apprentice Rangers
Once again, it was the Ranger Gathering; the time of year that the Rangers all across Araluen looked forward to the most. It was a much-needed break in their duties, as well as an opportunity to meet up with comrades that they may not have seen all year. There was always a buzz around the apprentices, seeing how they had progressed, as well as watching the older ones graduate. Not to mention the feast on their last evening together before parting ways once more for another year.
On the first night of the Gathering, most Rangers were preoccupied in cooking their evening meals after a hard few days or so of travelling. Alternatively, some Rangers invited themselves to others' campfires, engaging them in conversation in the hope of scrounging food in order to get out of cooking their own meal.
The Senior Rangers had their own tradition of meeting in the command tent during the first official evening. Formally, this meeting was about the state of the fiefs and other such matters, but in actual fact, the purpose of the meeting was for the Senior Rangers to sit down, have a coffee, and gossip like old washer women. Their favourite topic: apprentice Rangers.
"How's your apprentice getting on, Renard?" Crowley asked, turning to the stocky man next to him.
"Young Alaric? A little bright spark, that one. He's getting on fine," Renard replied. He was a newer member among those gathered in the tent having only achieved his status as Senior Ranger just two years previously. He took a sip of his coffee, "Although, I think that may have changed today."
"How so?" asked Bartell, frowning.
"He got on the wrong side of one of the more cheerful members of the Corps," Renard said slyly, glancing at Halt meaningfully.
Crowley turned to Halt, who had arranged his face into an innocent expression. No one in the tent was fooled by this.
Crowley sighed. "Halt, what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything."
"Somehow, I don't believe that," chuckled Alun into his coffee, unable to keep the smirk off his face, like many of the other Rangers.
"Neither do I," agreed Crowley. "Why are you scaring off apprentices, Halt? They're hard enough to recruit without you making them run off terrified."
"He deserved it," Halt said, maintaining that look of innocence. "You heartless lot don't seem to care that I nearly died today because of that apprentice."
A few of the Rangers snorted, a couple of them unsuccessfully disguising it as a cough as Halt glared at them. Crowley ran his hand through his hair in bewilderment.
"Can someone tell me what is going on? I highly doubt that Halt would allow himself to be nearly killed by an apprentice."
Renard leaned back in his seat, smiling broadly. "You should have seen it, Crowley. I laughed for a good while afterwards, and trying to keep a straight face in front of Alaric was a monumental task in itself before I could get away from him."
"Oh, just get on with it," Crowley sighed.
And with that, Renard recounted that day's events.
#
It was that same afternoon, just gone midday. The last dregs of Rangers were arriving as tents were erected around those who were in the midst of boiling water for much-needed coffee. Greeting to old friends were being made, and just beyond this hubbub of activity, first year apprentice Ranger Alaric was getting in some last-minute archery practise on the archery field at the far end of the clearing.
He'd already set up his and Renard's tent, and found firewood for the small campfire, in preparation for the evening meal, which Alaric himself would no doubt be cooking. Renard was now lounging by the campfire, chatting with a young Ranger called Merron, both clasping onto a mug of coffee.
Alaric was doing his best to ignore them, but he knew that they were watching him, even if they weren't making it obvious. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Rangers had eyes in the back of their heads. Previously, he had found himself at the sharp end of Renard's tongue if he hadn't completed a task to the best of his ability, even when Alaric had thought that his mentor wasn't watching.
Quiver emptied, Alaric fetched his arrows. Silently, he congratulated himself on his shooting, which wasn't too bad considering that he didn't have any practise over the last few days due to the relentless pace that Renard had set in order for them to arrive to the Gathering on time. A last-minute mission had prevented them from leaving on time, but thankfully, it had been easily sorted. Alaric didn't think he could've beared missing his first ever Ranger Gathering – it was an important rite of passage for every Ranger.
As he made his way back to his position, Alaric risked a glance at the two chatting Rangers. They were turned slightly towards him, currently absorbed in their conversation – or so it seemed. Renard had casually mentioned that Merron would be his examiner for his archery test, so it wouldn't hurt to make a good impression, just in case his nerves got the better of him later.
Alaric faced the targets once again. Smoothly, he drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it onto the string. He raised the bow and pulled the string back to the corner of his mouth. Sighting down the arrow to the centre of the target, he took a steadying breath and released the string. Just as that first arrow thudded into the target, Alaric already had another arrow nocked, ready to follow.
Out of earshot of the young apprentice, Merron watched out of the corner of his eye as Alaric diligently let loose another quiver-full of arrows. He could tell that Alaric knew he was being watched, but Merron didn't think it would be fair to full on stare at the lad as he practised. He remembered how nerve-wracking it had been for him as an apprentice before his own tests, and the extra hours he had put it to hone his skills further.
"Alaric's doing well," stated Merron, risking a look now that the lad's back was turned, impressed at the consistency of the shots.
Renard nodded, draining the last of his coffee from his mug. "Aye, in his archery at least. He needs more practise on his tracking, but he'll get there."
"Just give it time. It'll click, and he doesn't have to be perfect at this stage – oh no."
Merron had caught a flash of movement near the target Alaric was shooting at. The apprentice was so absorbed in his task, that he hadn't noticed.
"What is it?" asked Renard, turning around fully to look at his apprentice. They watched as Alaric nocked another arrow and pulled the string back to full draw, both knowing what was about to happen.
A cloaked figure seemingly appeared out of nowhere by the target. Alaric shouted in surprise and released the arrow towards the figure, who didn't even flinch as the arrow sailed past his shoulder and into the foliage behind him.
"What do you think you're doing?" exclaimed the figure, instantly identifiable from the dark busy beard and the faint Hibernian accent. "I could have been killed!"
A few Rangers attracted by the commotion drifted over to stand by Merron and Renard, gleefully watching the proceedings. A Ranger was able to sniff out trouble quicker than a horse could sniff out apples. They watched in silence as Halt told off the apprentice, who was getting paler and paler by the second, stammering out apologies when Halt took a breath. Just as Merron thought the boy would faint out of sheer fright, Halt stalked off, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
Entertainment finished, the other Rangers went back to whatever they were doing before, while Merron and Renard watched Alaric hurry into the bushes after his errant arrow.
#
"You know what, I'll be surprised if you still have an apprentice by the end of the day," Merron said to Renard mildly. "If Halt had done that to me during my apprenticeship, I would have quit on the spot. Still would actually."
"It was an impromptu test," Halt shrugged. "I stepped on a twig – he should have heard it."
"You expected him to have heard you step on a twig when he was concentrating on his shooting skills?" clarified Crowley.
"Yes."
"He's only a first-year!"
"He's a Ranger," replied Halt, as if that settled the argument.
Crowley snorted. "I doubt Will or Gilan could have done that in their first year of training. So, has the grim face of our esteemed comrade traumatised the poor lad?"
"You could say that," chuckled Renard. "To Alaric, Halt had appeared out of nowhere; so, he did the most natural thing when armed with a loaded bow – he shot at Halt. Couldn't hear what Halt said to him though after that initial shouting."
"What did you say to him, Halt?" asked Crowley, a variety of scenarios running through his mind, each one worse than the last.
"I gave him a talking to about bow safety. I could have had a serious injury!"
"I'm surprised you didn't see it," said Alun. "Most of us had gathered to watch the entertainment."
"I was out scouting."
"I heard that initial shout on the other side of the campsite," said Leon with a satisfied smile. "Birds were scared out of the trees it was so loud."
"He learnt his lesson," said Halt.
"The poor boy was nearly in tears," said Bartell. "I feel sorry for him. He's probably sat in his tent now, alone and traumatised."
"He's traumatised? What about me? I was nearly killed by an apprentice!" replied Halt. "At least he won't try shooting at a Ranger anytime soon."
"If I remember correctly," said Leon, "a certain Ranger encouraged his first-year apprentice to shoot at another Ranger a few years back."
"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. It was to teach an ex-apprentice of mine a lesson."
"Well, Alaric is going to be avoiding you during this Gathering," said Bartell. "I expect he'll run a mile in the other direction as soon as he sees you coming along."
"That's nothing new," said Renard. "All apprentices avoid Halt during their first Gathering."
"He won't be able to avoid me for long," said Halt with a wolfish smile. "I've decided to watch the archery test in the morning."
"No, you won't," said Crowley quickly. "You're keeping away from any of the first-year apprentice this Gathering. And the second-years, just to be on the safe side. The only apprentice older than them is Will, and I think he's used to your cheery nature by now."
Halt shrugged. "Fine by me. At least that way none of them will attempt to kill me."
"He's doing it for their sakes, not yours," scoffed Alun.
"Speaking of second-years, does anybody know how they're getting on?" asked Leon. "I'm assessing them tomorrow afternoon."
"They're progressing as expected from what I've heard," replied Bartell. "Although, I did notice that James' apprentice, Tomas, was cramming in some extra practise earlier."
"Oh yes," replied Crowley, a smile spreading onto his face. "I saw that as I was scouting. Must had been about the same time as Halt's brush with death. Now, that was a funny story…"
#
It was a good place to have a quick nap. Crowley had discovered this tree many years ago, back when he was an apprentice himself, as a way to avoid responsibility and the arduous task of setting up camp at each Gathering. The tree was easy to climb, despite first impressions, and the lower branches provided good coverage below. Many a time other Rangers had passed beneath this tree and not spotted him. It was one of many hiding places that Crowley had discovered through the years, though this one was the oldest, situated right by the river.
He watched as James trudged along the path, bucket in hand. There was a break in the bushes at the river's edge here, the ideal place to collect fresh drinking water. A flicker of movement caught Crowley's attention, and James' by the slight pause in his gait before he carried on. Crowley leaned over, just enough to see a flash of bright red hair peeking out of the hood of a mottled cloak. It was Tomas, James' second-year apprentice who was instantly recognisable by his fiery hair.
Crowley held back a chuckle when he realised what was happening below. Like all apprentices at some point in their career, Tomas was engaged in the fruitless attempt of scaring his mentor. Having tested him the previous year, Crowley knew that Tomas was advanced at silent movement, though not enough to fool any seasoned Ranger. James was too casual in fetching the water, a sure sign that he knew exactly what his apprentice was up to.
The bushes beside Tomas rustled. True to training, Tomas froze on the spot. Crowley smiled in satisfaction at this, and resolved to tell whoever was administering the boy's test the next day of this, just in case he messed up for some reason, knowing that it would go in Tomas's favour that he could apply his skills outside of test conditions.
After a minute, Tomas started forward again, but at that exact moment, a rabbit jumped into his path. With a yell, Tomas leapt up, his knife flying through the air, landing with a thud in the creature, killing it instantly.
Crowley smothered his mouth with his hand, not wishing to give away his position after all these years of no one else knowing about it. While it wasn't the first time he'd witnessed an apprentice try to sneak up on their mentor, it was most definitely the funniest.
#
"Is that why James was giving Tomas a lecture on the identification of dangerous and non-dangerous animals when I went by earlier?" said Alun after he'd finished laughing.
"I assume so," replied Crowley. "On my way here, I spotted Tomas cooking the offending rabbit on a spit. He had the satisfied expression of someone who believes that adequate justice was served."
"If that's the case, I don't have to test his knife throwing skills tomorrow," said Renard.
"Don't give him too much credit," said Crowley. "It was at close range."
"And there I was hoping to save a bit of time tomorrow," commented Renard lightly.
"What stupid things has Will done this year?" asked Bartell, turning to Halt who had just refilled his coffee mug as was stirring in some honey. "He's done some chestnuts over his apprenticeship. My favourite antic so far was during last year's Gathering?"
"Which one?" asked Renard.
Bartell let a devilish smile spread on his face. "He was trying to teach himself to mount Tug bareback. He ran up and jumped, but had been a little overenthusiastic and vaulted straight over that horse of his and landed on the grass on the other side. I was impressed that he could jump that high."
"My apprentice has done plenty of stupid things over this previous year to add to his collection." Halt leaned back in his chair, one such event coming instantly to mind.
#
At last, Will was comfortable. He was in the cabin, tackling a report that Halt had assigned to him, much to his displeasure. They had gotten back from a mission that morning, and Halt had gone straight out again, leaving Will alone. Halt thought that Will was now experienced enough to complete the post-mission report that would be sent to Crowley at Castle Araluen. Personally, Will saw this exercise as a waste of time as Halt would look over the report later and make so many corrections that hardly any of Will's original writing remained. Thankfully, Will had gotten quicker at this process, and it wasn't long before he was reading it over, making sure that there were as few mistakes as possible.
As Will was doing his write up, Halt was occupied with Abelard. The Ranger horse has sustained a cut on his flank during the mission, and though it looked bad, it was something that Halt had dealt with before, and wasn't serious enough to take Abelard to Old Bob. Will knew the horse would be as right as rain soon enough.
It was just as well that Halt wasn't in the cabin as he wouldn't approve of what Will had done in his bid for comfort. First and foremost, Will had been cold as he settled down to start the report. As it wasn't cold enough for him to justify lighting a fire in the middle of the autumn day, he had instead opted to tightly wrap his cloak around him, soon warming up to the perfect temperature. Then, as he was reading his report, he couldn't get comfortable, his backside going numb on the wooden chair. He'd shifted into a few positions, each seeming more uncomfortable than the last. Finally, he found a position that was comfortable, however, he knew that Halt wouldn't be happy if he found out. But Will had decided it was worth the risk. The elusive position of Will's ultimate was having his feet up on the table, his chair rocking backwards.
With a critical eye, he looked over the report, chewing on his lip as he mentally debated the spelling of a word he was certain he had spelt correctly, but looked wrong on the parchment in front of him. He was so focused on his work, that he nearly missed the slight creak of the veranda's floorboards outside.
Head snapping in the direction of the door, he could see it starting to open, the hinges creaking as Halt appeared in the doorway. Hastily, Will tried to sweep his legs from the table, but he had been leaning too far back in the chair. The chair crashed to the floor, Will falling with it, report drifting down after him. As Will made contact with the floor, his momentum carried him backwards, and he rolled back, springing onto his feet. Off balance, Will stumbled and stood on the hem of his cloak. He choked at the sudden pressure on his throat, falling once more, and landed heavily on the wooden floor, his head hitting the wall behind him.
Slightly dazed as he rubbed his head, Will looked up to where Halt was still stood in the doorway. He could have sworn that the corner of the Ranger's mouth twitched.
"If you're considering a change of career to a travelling performer, pleases don't try to ruin my furniture while you're practising," said Halt, as grim and as deadpan as ever. "Although, if you want my advice, I would suggest you stay in the job you're in at the moment. At least being mediocre as a Ranger is an improvement on your tumbling act."
Halt walked back out of the cabin, leaving a bewildered Will sitting on the floor. As he walked away, he let the smile bloom on his lips, knowing what juicy story he would tell the Rangers at the next Gathering.
#
All of the Rangers had belly laughed at the mental image of Will flipping head over heels off the back of his chair.
"Was the chair alright?" asked Crowley, causing some of the others to start laughing again.
"The chair is fine," said Halt. "However, there is a dent in the floorboards that wasn't there before."
"I don't think I would have been able to keep a straight face if I saw Alaric do that," said Renard, wiping his eyes.
"I had to go back outside," Halt admitted. He knew that the other Senior Rangers were aware that he wasn't as grim as most people thought he was, and was actually able to produce a smile on occasion. "When I returned later, I found he had cut his head, but by that time it'd stopped bleeding. Saved a trip up to the castle to get it stitched."
"I do wish that I taught your apprentices sometimes," said Bartell. "You do tell us some entertaining stories about them."
"Too right," agreed Alun. "Tell us that one about Gilan in Araluen Castle's infirmary. That one's my favourite."
Renard glanced between the two, "I haven't heard this one yet."
Halt sighed as though it would be too much of an effort, but in truth, he always enjoyed telling this story. With a swig of coffee to wet his throat, he began.
#
They could have done without this inconvenience. Halt had been hoping to be well on his way home with his apprentice, Gilan, in tow, no doubt rambling on about the latest sword technique he had learnt in minute detail. But in didn't turn out that way. Instead, Halt was heading back to Castle Araluen, sopping wet, covered in mud, with a captured thief tied up to Abelard, and an equally muddy but unconscious Gilan slung over the back of Blaze.
Over the past couple of days, he'd been attending a supposedly important Senior Ranger meeting while Gilan took the chance for some more training with MacNeil. Rather, it seemed like Crowley wanted a chat about everything and anything that wasn't Ranger business. Truth be told, Halt would have done the same if he was stuck doing paperwork all day long, with people only wanting to talk about work with you. He wouldn't want that job for the world.
Him and Gilan were meant to be well on their way to Redmont, but they'd stumbled upon a thief who was looking through a sack of recently stolen loot. It had been a hard chase, having to go on foot. The thief had been canny, opting to use his knowledge of the woods to run along narrow and twisting paths, forcing the Rangers to abandon their horses. Unfortunately for the thief, it had rained heavily over the past few days, with no sign of stopping soon, and found it just as hard to lose them.
Eventually, they had cornered the thief, and he gave the best he could. Though, he was no match for the Rangers. It probably helped that during the scuffle, Gilan had slipped in the mud and hit his head on a rock. This distracted the thief, and Halt took the opportunity to apprehend him. To Halt's relief, Gilan came around briefly, blood dripping from a cut that looked nastier than it actually was, before blacking out once more.
There was no choice but to go back to the castle. The thief would need to be dropped off at the castle dungeon, Gilan at the infirmary, and Halt to write up a report about the morning's events. Crowley would be dismayed he missed the action. He had planned to ride with Halt and Gilan on a short part of the journey, that was until he saw the relentless rain and gave it a pass for that time.
During the journey back, Halt had kept poking Gilan awake, relieved every time the apprentice blearily looked around and answered his questions in confusion before nodding off again. This was a good sign, but it didn't stop him glaring at the thief at every opportunity – it was his fault they were all in this mess.
At the castle, Halt quickly dispatched the thief and Gilan to the dungeons and the infirmary respectively, before finding a place to get changed. It wouldn't do to drip mud and water all over the pristine castle. As he was making his way to the infirmary to check up on Gilan, he bumped into Crowley, who had to do a double take.
"I thought I finally managed to get rid of you," commented the Head Ranger jovially.
Halt grunted. "Had a bit of a hold up. Comes to something when I'm apprehending thieves in your fief."
Crowley looked at Halt's dark expression, "Good grief, I hope you brought him in alive."
"He's in your dungeon having a good long think about his actions."
With a start, Crowley looked around. "Where's Gilan?"
"In the infirmary," said Halt, heading off with Crowley following in his wake. He may have been short, but Halt could really move fast. "He slipped over and hit his head. Should have been more careful, he's in his final year."
"Could have happened to anyone," Crowley shrugged. "At least it wasn't when he was qualified. Now he can take it as an important lesson and not make the same mistake the next time."
They stepped through the doorway of the infirmary, the white washed walls were gloomy from the miserable day. Outside, the thick clouds smothered the light from the sun, preventing it from shining through the infirmary's large windows. Only one bed was occupied, which Gilan was sat in, and in a far more perkier state than Halt had left him in. The rather pretty apprentice healer trying to clean his face was probably the reason for that.
"Did you know that I write poetry?" Gilan said to her. He was turned towards her, and had not noticed Halt and Crowley enter. They lingered at the doorway, sharing a look. This could be interesting. "I could recite you some if you wish."
"You'll probably do so anyway," she said, dabbing at his forehead. She had the jaded look of having heard it all before.
"I'm very good at making them up on the spot – listen." Gilan cleared his throat and the girl sat back, her expression thoroughly unimpressed, though he played this no heed. "Your skin glows like starlight, with your freckles like constellations. Your hair is as soft as finely spun silk, the colour of golden wheat fields. Your eyes –"
"Your eyes hold wisdom beyond your tender years," interrupted another apprentice healer. Her whole being burned with fury as she stormed over to him. "Made it up on the spot? You wrote that poem for me a few months ago!"
Gilan's face paled beneath the patches of mud that had yet to be cleaned off. "Umm… hello, Martha –"
The slap echoed around the room. Gilan's hand flew to his reddening cheek as the jilted girl hissed, "My name is Ivy."
She stormed off, as the other girl watched opened mouthed, her eyes unable to hide their glee.
"Ivy! Wait, I-" Gilan tried to run after her, but instead got his long legs tangled in the bedcovers and landed on the floor with a loud thump. Not to be put off, he scrambled to his feet and took one step before realising that Halt and Crowley was there, the latter doubled over with laughter, and also that he was as naked as the day he was born.
#
Laughter filled the tent, Crowley almost doubled over once more as he remembered Gilan going red as he covered himself with a sheet. The poor apprentice couldn't look the Commandant in the eye for a long while after.
From the other side of the tent's canvas, there was some swearing, and the sound of a short scuffle. A moment later, Gilan burst into the command tent, his cheeks flushed and looking highly indignant.
"You promised to never tell that story again!" pointing at Halt.
"I had my fingers crossed when I made that promise," replied Halt before calling out, "Come out, Will! We all know you're there."
A sigh was heard, followed by light footsteps. Will appeared sheepishly, his clothes rumpled from his mini fight with Gilan.
"Now, what are you two doing outside of the command tent?" Halt asked them. Gilan was still glaring at him, while Will found his boots more interesting. "Surely you both have better things to do than eavesdrop on boring Ranger business."
Will muttered something about how it didn't seem like 'boring Ranger business' to him, but this was drowned out by Gilan's excuse.
"We weren't eavesdropping. I was simply giving Will as last-minute tutorial on unseen movement." Will, catching on, nodded vigorously. "We decided that it would be best to stay within the camp boundaries since it's too dark in the woods – there's horrible creatures living out there."
"Like rabbits?" snickered Alun.
"What a load of codswallop," snorted Leon. "We all know you listen to our conversations every year."
"And now you're corrupting a young, innocent apprentice," added Bartell. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Gilan."
"I wouldn't exactly call Will innocent," remarked Halt. "Now, both of you go away and leave us in peace."
Will nodded and started to hurry away, but Gilan grabbed hold of him. "So you can tell more embarrassing stories about Will and Me? No thanks! I think it'll be fun if we tell some stories about you."
"Don't you even -"
Gilan paid no heed to Halt. "Has Halt ever told you about the time he got caught in a trap? No? Happened during my fourth year of training. We were tracking some bandits, when there was a dead animal in the middle of the track – a badger I think it was. Halt went to investigate, but when he reached it, he was caught up in a net. The next thing I know, the group of bandits appear downwind from the surrounding bushes. I had to deal with them while Halt was shouting and swearing as he dangled ten feet in the air! After I subdued the bandits, I then had to cut the legendary Halt down!"
"Funny, in the official report, Gilan was the one who got caught in the trap," commented Crowley. "I read it every now and then for a good laugh," he added to Alun, who chuckled in response.
"If we're swapping stories," growled Halt, "how about the time Gilan ran into a tree? He broke his nose and then claimed he got into a fight with Battleschool apprentices."
"You once fell off Abelard trying to perform a fancy dismount to impress Lady Pauline!" Gilan spluttered.
The rest of the Rangers kept quiet, unsuccessfully hiding their smiles, while Will merely watched wide eyed, horror-struck. Nobody felt like interrupting – they wanted to see how far this escalated.
"When we first went to Celtica," continued Halt, "you couldn't tell the difference between a cow and a sheep!"
"That cow was really shaggy looking – and it was white! Anyone could get confused."
"Tug is a rather shaggy horse. Do you confuse him with a sheep?"
"Halt gets really seasick," piped up Will. "Really, really seasick. He once threw up in a Skandian's helmet."
The Rangers all turned to look at Will, intrigued by this new revelation. Will knew that he should have stopped there, but the words continued to flow like a river whose banks had burst.
"Also, in Skandia, Halt decided to go undercover as a Skandian, but even the smallest Skandian's clothes were miles too big. He looked like a child playing dress up!"
Silence descended on the tent until Gilan said quietly, "Bad move, Will."
"I tried to think of an embarrassing story about you, but Halt had taken the good ones that I know of. That was the first thing I could think of."
"I can't believe you were going to betray me!"
"I still have my tests to pass!"
"You also have to live with Halt another year – that's if you survive past tonight."
"I'll have you, Will," said Bartell. "Could do with a bit more entertainment in my advancing years."
"I'll let him live," said Halt, "but I'll make his life a misery. Since Will has decided to join in, let's hear some more stories about him. Hmm… let me think – oh yes! You remember how last winter was a particularly cold one? Well, one very icy day, whilst walking through Redmont Castle's yard to a meeting with the Baron, Will spotted some young courier apprentice – all girls – including Alyss. Will suddenly stood up straighter and sped up his pace in an attempt to look rather aloof, I daresay. Trying to do this, he didn't spot a patch of ice. Needless to say, he stepped on the ice, and promptly slipped over, landing on his back – all in full view of those lovely courier girls."
"That wasn't funny! I had a massive bruise on my back and could hardly walk for a week!"
"There was the time you decided to hang upside down from a tree since you thought it would make you grow taller."
"How did you know about that? I was twelve – before I was your apprentice."
Halt smacked his palm against his forehead. "Sorry – was this little story-telling session just relating to your time as an apprentice? How about the time with the mouse?"
The colour drained from Will's face. "You promised never to tell anyone!"
"I think that promise is void. This little tale happened on a mission during Will's first year as an apprentice. I had the morning watch shift and the sun had only just risen. Will was just getting up as I was making some coffee when there was an almighty scream – yes, you heard correctly – Will screamed. He ran out of the tent stammering something about a mouse stuck in his boot. I told him that the mouse would be more scared of him. Will wouldn't listen to reason, and upon his insistence, I went into the tent to retrieve his boot. Instead his boot was indeed a mouse – a baby mouse. To this day, he sleeps with his boots on whilst on missions, tent or no tent."
"I don't like mice. I was bitten by one when I was younger – it was a traumatising experience!"
Crowley snorted, unsuccessfully trying to smother a laugh.
"I don't know why you're laughing," said Gilan, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I know a few good stories about you – as does Halt. Do you recall the time you ruined King Duncan's favourite cloak? You blamed his hounds so he wouldn't find out it was you."
"Shut up, Gilan," grumbled Crowley, unhappy that the attention had been turned on to him.
"You were going to blame me at first!"
"That's because you were an annoying little apprentice."
"I wouldn't say little," replied Halt. "Gil has never been little. Those sprawling limbs of his do cause problems. Still to this day, he trips up on my veranda."
"Indeed," said Crowley with a smirk as the embarrassing stories were directed at Gilan once more. "A couple of years ago at the Gathering, whilst attending to Blaze, he tripped over and landed face first in her fresh dung."
"I thought no one had see that," admitted Gilan, his ears going red as the rest of the Rangers chuckled.
"I am the best silent mover in the Corps – not that I like to blow my own trumpet."
"You're also very good at disguises; Halt too," replied Gilan, and turned to address the other Senior Rangers. "Our esteemed Commandant Crowley and Senior Ranger Halt once had to gain some information during the first war with Morgarath by infiltrating an enemy camp."
"Shut up, Gilan," growled Halt, his eyes flashing dangerously as he knew where this was going.
Gilan opted to ignore this, raising his voice so everyone in the tent couldn't mistake what he was about to say. "They decided the best way to go about this was to go in disguise… as washer women. I think that's the only time Halt has shaved. I imagine he had a two-tone appearance – not at all an attractive look. But the funny thing is, a report about this highly important and dangerous mission never appeared in the central files; I know, I've looked."
"If the mission report isn't in the central files, how did you find out?" asked Bartell.
"Pray, tell, Gilan," said Halt. "How exactly did you find out?"
"I overheard you telling my father."
"Eavesdropping is a very bad habit, especially at such a young age."
Gilan shrugged, "I was a curious boy, Halt. I liked to think of it as practising my natural inclinations for my impending apprenticeship as a Ranger."
"Seems like you have a natural inclination for being a pain in my backside."
There was a snicker from the other side of the tent's canvas.
The arguing Rangers looked directly to the source of the sound, while the other Senior Rangers looked on casually, smug smiles on their faces. Halt, Crowley, Gilan and Will had been so caught up in their verbal battle that they hadn't realised they'd been shouting. This had alerted the camping Rangers outside, which piqued their interest, resulting in a silent gathering outside of the tent. The Senior Rangers had noticed the presence of the impromptu meeting outside, but had collectively decided to stay silent knowing that the entertainment was too good.
Now, no one dared to make a sound. Will glanced at Halt who looked positively murderous, while Crowley seemed ashamed, and Gilan was horror struck.
It was Halt was spoke first, loudly and clearly for all to hear. "Time to find out what happens to nosey young Rangers who try to eavesdrop on important meetings definitely not meant for their ears!"
There was the sound of a dozen or so pairs of feet scurrying away before Halt grabbed Gilan and Will by their collars and roughly led them out of the tent. He looked around the camp as if he was deliberating something, then set off towards the surrounding trees.
"Hang on, Halt," said Gilan as they passed the treeline. "We can't come in here! You don't know what creature could be lurking about!"
"Shut up, Gilan," hissed Will. "I don't think what could be lurking about here is high up on our list of problems!"
They went past one of the Rangers posted on watch duty. He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly shut it again as soon as he saw Halt's furious expression, as well as the gang of gleeful Rangers who had followed, eager for some entertainment.
Keeping at their swift pace, despite some stumbles on Will and Gilan's part, they soon reached their destination. It was the part of the river that the Rangers used to wash. Here, it was particularly deep, and had a tall bank towering over the river. The ideal spot for apprentices, and the more young-at-heart Rangers, to have fun by jumping into the water.
Halt released Will and Gilan. "Cloaks off."
Will wasted no time in yanking his over his head, depositing it unceremoniously at his feet. Gilan's own cloak joined Will's just half a second later. Anticipating what was about to happen, they also took off their belts containing their knives, which were dumped on top of their cloaks. By now, most of the Rangers who had come to watch had assembled themselves at the riverbank, hoping to get a good view of the proceedings. Halt turned to address them.
"These two miscreants decided to eavesdrop on a Senior Ranger meeting; a confidential meeting. Therefore, it only makes sense for them to be punished in order to set an example."
"Halt…" warned Crowley.
"I am perfectly within my rights to punish my apprentice as I see fit."
"I'm not your apprentice!" Gilan protested.
"But you were the instigator," Halt replied simply. He paused, waiting for any further protests. But when none came, he gestured to the river. "Jump in."
Will and Gilan shared a wary glance. They didn't fancy jumping into the freezing water with an audience watching. An optimistic part of them hoped that Halt was bluffing, and would instead make them spend the night in a tree.
Halt stepped forward. "If you don't jump, I'll push you. It's your choice."
He took another step forward. Will sprinted off the edge, while Gilan wasn't so lucky and was pushed by Halt, his long limbs waving about in an undignified manner as he disappeared over the edge. There were two loud splashes, and the Rangers watched eagle-eyed to see two heads emerge from the waters below, hair sticking to their spluttering faces.
"It's freezing!" exclaimed Gilan.
"Really?" replied Halt in mock astonishment. "It's not where I'm standing – I'm rather comfortable. Where do you think you're going, Will?"
The apprentice had started to swim to the shallower part of the river, but stopped immediately at Halt's voice, paddling on the spot instead. If he tried to put his feet on the bed of the river, the water would have gone over his head. He had tried to move to a place where he could stand instead of paddle.
"Why are you here, boys?" asked Halt, enjoying this too much.
"Because we eavesdropped on a confidential meeting," said Will.
"And whose idea was that?"
"Mine," replied Gilan.
"And who should have known better than to listen to my idiot ex-apprentice?"
"Me," said Will, teeth chattering. His mouth bobbed beneath the water, and when he came back up again, he spat out water.
"Have you learnt your lessons?"
"Yes, Halt," was the simultaneous reply.
"Out you both get then."
Shivering, Gilan waded over to Will and grabbed him by the arm. They both stumbled out of the river, climbing up a path in the bank, then over to Halt and their dry cloaks which they wrapped around themselves.
"If either of you do that again," warned Halt, "you'll be in that water for longer. Understand?"
#
Several years later…
It was the time of the annual Ranger Gathering once again, and while most Rangers were eating at this time of evening and catching up with their comrades, the Senior Rangers were in the Commandant's tent for their usual 'important' meeting.
This year, Gilan had been promoted, so Will found himself sharing his fire, and his coffee supply with Liam, a young Ranger who had graduated a couple years previously, and Patrick, a third-year apprentice whose mentor was a Senior Ranger.
"What do they talk about in there?" asked Patrick, looking in the direction of the Commandant's tent.
"Important stuff," replied Liam. "It's probably mind-numbingly dull."
"You know, some apprentices test out their silent movement skills by going up to the tent and listening in," said Will straight-faced.
"Really?" asked Liam, sounding sceptical. Will shot the younger Ranger a look, clearly telling him to play along.
"Oh yeah," continued Will. "Gilan did the same when he was an apprentice, and Crowley was impressed. Not a coincidence, I think, that Gil's the youngest Ranger ever to get promoted to a Senior Ranger position. And… if you impress me, I'm sure I can make your actual silent movement exam a bit easier for you."
"You can do that?" asked Patrick.
"Of course he can," snorted Liam, joining in on the fun. "He's the famous Will Treaty. He can pull a few strings around the Corps."
Wasting no time, Patrick pulled up his hood and set off in the direction of the tent as Will and Liam watched his progress with broad smiles on their faces. The apprentice had gotten within ten feet of the tent when a voice bellowed, "WILL TREATY!"
Instantly, Will went pale at the sound of Halt's voice. He dropped his full mug of coffee and snatched up his bow and quiver.
"If anyone asks, I've been on watch duty all this time," Will hissed to Liam before sprinting off to hide in the safety of the trees, leaving the laughs of Rangers in his wake.
#
Thank you for reading! And if you want to make this author happy, please review :)