Halt glanced up from his report at the door opened. Gilan entered the cabin, his right hand awkwardly pressed against his nose. Blood was dripping down his face.
"I don't dink I dike Battledool apprendides." Gilan said thickly.
"Enlighten me, Gilan." Halt said disinterestedly, turning back to his reports.
"I got pund'. In da face." The apprentice replied in a matter of fact tone.
"Yes, I gathered that much for myself. I mean why did you get punched? Did you attempt to pull a stupid prank on one?" Halt asked.
"No."
"Did you pick a fight with one?"
"No."
"Then what did you do?" Halt said, finally turning to face his apprentice.
"I didn'd do anyding! Dey said I wad a sneaking Wanger brat!" Gilan replied indignantly, trying to wipe the blood that was now trying to get into his mouth. "Dey said dad I wad da right height do practice on."
"They?" Halt inquired, his eyes narrowing.
"Dey." Gilan confirmed. "Dere were four."
Halt's eyes flashed angrily. One Battleschool apprentice, Halt expected Gilan to be able to deal with. Four was a different matter. Four showed cowardice. If they thought fair was for four big Battleschool apprentices to bully a Ranger's apprentice, perhaps it was time for him, Halt, to teach them the proper meaning of the word "fair".
"Clean yourself up. I'll be back shortly." Halt told Gilan, getting out of his chair and toward the door. Gilan nodded, and a few drops of blood splattered on the floor. Halt cringed. "And do try to stay off the rugs."