The classic "getting a Ranger horse"... with a twist.

"Morning, Ranger!" A cheerful voice called from the fence line.

Gilan cocked his head slightly, studying the man who had spoken. He was short and wrinkled, with a long, dirty beard. His most striking feature on his otherwise rather grubby appearance were his bright, jade green eyes. Looking at them, Gilan was given the impression that the man could see straight into him.

Beside him, Halt pushed his cloak cowl down. "Hello, Old Bob," he greeted in his deep, soft spoken voice. "Do you have the horse ready?"

Bob laughed - an interesting braying sound. "I do indeed. So this is 'im?" He gestured to Gilan as he spoke.

"Bob, meet my apprentice, Gilan," Halt replied, tugging back Gilan's raised cowl so Bob could see him better. The old man nodded thoughtfully, taking in the boy's tall, lanky frame.

"He's taller then I thought 'e would be..."

"He's Sir David's," Halt clarified. "The Battlemaster's son." Old Bob's face cleared momentarily, then clouded once again.

"Don't he belong in a Battleschool with knight lines as blue-blooded as that? Even if he is a little scrawny?" The horse trainer asked, genuinely puzzled. Gilan shifted uncomfortably and lowered his gaze, flushing slightly. Halt, noting his embarrassment, quickly spoke.

"He showed talent towards Ranger skills," the Ranger said simply. Bob nodded slowly, then turned to Gilan, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't got any Battlehorses here."

"I, I realize that, sir." Gilan stuttered, still feeling slightly bullied, and just wanting to meet his new mount. "I don't like them very much. I prefer my horses a bit more light on their feet." Indeed, Gilan's horse back at Caraway was a finely built, lean animal with razor sharp responses. Though too light to be a Battlehorse, Gilan had taken an instant liking to Bentley's speed and maneuvers.

Bob stared at him for a moment, then chuckled, a grin breaking through. "Young Gilan, we'll get along just fine!" Turning to Halt, he said gleefully, "I like him! He's a smart 'un! Polite, too. Called me 'sir'," he added in a matter-of-fact tone.

Halt rolled his eyes upward. "Can we see the horse, please?"

Bob smirked, then gave a rolling whistle. A small black horse with a decidedly bushy mane trotted from behind the barn. The horse trainer paused, glancing between the pony to the apprentice, and pursed his lips. "This is Ace," he began, absently stroking the small white snip that decorated the pony's muzzle. "Looks like he might be too small... Wasn't counting on a rangy fellow like yourself..." Bob trailed off, his brow furrowed in thought. A moment later, a grin broke through his face and he rubbed his hands together. "No matter! I've got just the horse for a long-legged lad like yourself! Come along!"

Gilan, at this point warming to Bob's personality, smiled merrily and bounded after him, Halt following slightly behind in a more dignified manner. Bob glanced sideways as they entered the stable and chuckled. "Cheerful lad, aren't ya? Blaze'll do well with you." After he said this, Bob whistled softly. A second later, a horse pushed its head through its stall window, whinnying gently. Taking the halter, Bob grinned as he led her into the aisle and announced, "Gilan, meet Blaze."

Gilan's breath caught, his face lighting up. The mare had a slightly shaggy reddish brown coat, with a thick black mane and a tail so long it nearly dragged on the ground. She was built much lighter than Ace, and Gilan guessed that she would stand about two hands taller then Abelard. She had a wide, snowy white blaze that ran from her forehead down, ending in a soft pink snip. Perhaps most striking of all was her eyes: large and intelligent, colored a deep, liquid chocolate brown. Delighted, Gilan reminded himself to exhale.

Bob's green eyes sparkled. "I take it you like her? She's a fine one; has Arridan blood a ways back that makes 'em built finer."

Gilan nodded and took a step forward. "Can I meet her?" The boy sounded breathless with excitement, Bob noted with amusement as he handed the lead rope to the boy's eager hands.

"I suppose we should see if you can ride her," Halt said from where he had been leaning against the stall door, watching his student get acquainted with his new companion.

Bob hid a smirk as he stroked the white strip on Blaze's face. "I suppose we should. You know how to saddle a horse?" He gestured to a set of tack by the stall.

"Of course," Gilan answered, picking up the pad and saddle and placing them on Blaze's back. Reaching for the girth, he buckled it with the ease that only comes after much practice, then quickly slipped the bridle in. Bob watched approvingly.

"You're quite proficient at that, young 'un," Bob said in an amiable tone. Gilan shrugged in a self-depreciating manner. Turning back to his new horse, the boy rubbed her white marking and looked into her warm, bright, beautiful eyes. Gilan had always loved horses, and had spent many hours in the stables of Castle Caraway simply spending time with the magnificent creatures. He had missed having his own horse to care for, and the prospect of having this intelligent looking mare was very appealing indeed. "Hey, Brown Eyes. You're lovely," he crooned softly into her ear.

Blaze tossed her head agreeably at the words and nickered. Unnoticed by Gilan or Halt, Bob's face transformed from an expression of cheerfulness to one of shock. "Can I ride her now?" Gilan asked excitedly.

Bob looked sulky, while Halt considered. "If you feel that's a good idea."

Smiling widely, the boy led the horse out into the paddock. Halt followed behind with Bob, a small smirk visible on his face. He had gone through the process of getting thrown when he had gotten Abelard. He figured it was his turn to laugh, like Crowley and the others had when he had first mounted his new Ranger horse without a password. Expectantly, he leaned easily against the fence, and waited for the show to begin. He still hadn't noticed Bob's surly expression as they waited for Gilan to mount.

Gracefully, Gilan swung his lean body into the saddle. Touching the mare with his heels, she moved off, and Gilan marveled at the immediate response and smooth, floaty walk.

Halt's smirk slowly melted off his face, and was replaced by a rare expression of confusion when he realized the bucking fit wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "Bob," he began slowly, his tone slightly bewildered. "The horse is broken."

"The horse is not broken," Bob grumbled. "The lad said the code phrase."

Halt simply stared. "You're joking," he said finally.

Bob shook his head, moodily watching Gilan as he moved Blaze into a trot. "The phrase is 'Brown Eyes'. When 'e was doting on her, 'e said it right into her ear." The horse trainer gave a rueful half smile. "Suppose I should 'ave chosen something more difficult." He felt fairly put out that this tall, blonde, smiling boy that Halt had chosen had escaped giving him his favorite form of entertainment.

Feeling extremely cheated, Halt allowed his face to wither. "We'd best hope," he said dryly, his sardonic attitude even more pronounced, "that no one who wishes to steal her notices her lovely brown eyes."

Bob chose to ignore the comment, instead sighing resignedly. "Well, disappointment aside, the boy rides brilliantly."

Halt turned his gaze as Gilan moved the mare into a seemingly effortless canter. "He's decent."

Bob scoffed at Halt's words. "Decent? You're a harsh man! 'E's got one some of the best hands I've ever seen. Maybe you Rangers should apprentice more Battleschool dropouts - Maybe then they'll be able to actually ride. Too many of these lads you bring sit a horse no better then a sack o' potatoes."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "I'm the harsh one, am I?"

Bob once again ignored him - he found this tactic quite useful when talking to Halt. Instead, he moved the the gate and pushed it open, calling to Gilan as he did so. "Here, lad! Take her out and see what she can really do!"

Gilan grinned and squeezed Blaze's side, leaning forward in the saddle as he did so. Blaze moved off his leg like an arrow being fired, and within a few strides she was flat out galloping, past the gate and into the open field. The mare had extremely smooth gaits, and Gilan barely moved in the saddle, his position solid from the many hours he had spent in the saddle. The boy gently touched the reins, and the mare veered right, seeming to respond to his thoughts instead of his movements. "This is amazing!" He called over the wind to no one in particular. Gilan then focused his eyes on the solid white pasture fence. He had never jumped anything that tall, but he already fully trusted Blaze to clear it. Checking the mare slightly, Gilan turned her toward it. Blaze, her canter calm and steady, flew over it. The movement was so smooth Gilan barely felt jump. Gently coaxing her to a stop, the apprentice turned to his audience, his face alight in a wide grin.

"She's spectacular!" The boy burst out.

Halt, who had shut his eyes and turned away when his apprentice had sailed over the fence, cautiously opened them. "I've got myself a daredevil," Halt murmured wearily. He wondered how much effort it would take to keep the boy alive for five years - and how many grey hairs he would earn in the process.

Bob spoke now, more than a little impressed by Gilan's horsemanship. "That jump was somethin'! That paddock fence isn't no tiny log. You sat her like you were a part of her!"

Gilan laughed and shook his head. "She did all the work," he insisted. "I just had to stay out of her way. She knows what I what before I know myself!"

Bob smiled, pleased with the obvious appreciation of the horse he had trained, and continued happily, "Ranger horses are more agile then any Battlehorse could dream o' being. They know voice and hand signals, and they can never be stolen."

Gilan cocked his head curiously. "Explain."

"Each horse has a different code phrase that you have to tell them before you mount the first time. " Halt cut in. "If you don't, they'll stop at nothing to throw you. For example, Abelard responds to 'permettez moi'." As he finished, Halt cast a subtle glare at Bob.

Gilan's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I didn't tell her any code phrase..."

"When you were talking to her, you called her 'Brown Eyes'. That's her passcode," Bob added helpfully.

Gilan blinked. "Well," he said finally, his tone surprised. "That was a stroke of luck."

"Yes," Halt said sourly. "It was." His tone of voice suggested the exact opposite.

"Come along, young 'un,"Bob said, pointing to the stables. "You need to learn all o' her signals and such." Obediently, Gilan dismounted and began leading Blaze to the stables. He paused, then turning his gaze toward his mentor, asked tentatively,

"Halt? Coming?"

It was the boy's compelling blue eyes, Halt decided, that made it difficult to stay irritated. "I'll be there in a bit," the Ranger replied, making a small shooing motion at him. Watching him go, Halt stroked Abelard's waiting neck, musing quietly to himself.

"He's interesting, isn't he, Abe?" Halt said out loud. Abelard whuffled gently in reply. "I think we might get used to having him around." The horse snorted.

Which is just Halt talk for saying that you like him.

Though didn't reply out loud, Halt inwardly acknowledged that Abelard was right. After all, Abelard was a Ranger horse, and Ranger horses were very rarely wrong.

This story came to be when a plot bunny started pestering me. I'd been wanting to write about when Gilan gets Blaze, but I didn't know how to make it very different from Will, Maddie, Halt, etc... Then the thought came to mind, "What if someone accidentally said the code phrase?" I figured if anyone would have that much sheer dumb luck, it would be Gilan... and sulky Halt is always a plus.

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-TrustTheCloak