Codladh Samh

AN: According to some internet site I looked at, Codladh Samh (pronounced Cullah Sovh)means Sleep Well in Irish Gaelic.

Spoilers for book 8

Disclaimer: I do not own rangers apprentice. (Woah, surprised you right?)

"And Kaisel?" Halt asked, leaning casually against the desk. Crowley swivvelled in his arm chair, letting his reports lie unwritten in front of him. A short sigh escaped his lips.

"Halt, you might as well ask about Clonmel. I know that's what your getting at," the corps commandent said. Halt didn't flinch, didn't shift his eyes or fidgit.

"I don't know what your talking about," he said evenly. "I simply want to know the affairs of our neighbouring countries."

"You will know," Crowley rolled his eyes. "I send you an updated report every month, just like all the other rangers."

Halt did not let any outward sign of his irritation show. He hadn't yet got to the important part of the discussion- Clonmel, just as Crowley suspected. The sandy haired ranger knew Halt was from that kingdom of Hibernia, but not about his royal lineage, so he took great pains to sound general in his questions while fishing for information on his family, in particular, Caitlyn.

It felt strange to him, thinking of them as 'his family'. He barely knew them, and they all thought he was long since dead. Even so, he could still remember the small face of his younger sister peeking up at him as she edged his door open, a candle in her hand to light her way on the cold winter night. He remembered her sweet voice telling him about a nightmare and the warmth from her body as she slipped into his bed. Her features were hazy in his mind- he could remember she had pale skin and dark hair, but not the shape of her nose and chin, not the way her hair fell or the exact length.

He had moved on, and he knew she would have too. Caitlyn was now a grown woman but he just couldn't imagine her as anything other than a little girl. Had the years been hard on her as they had him? Had she seen death? Had she found the best of friends around her, as he had found in Crowley, Pauline, his second year apprentice Gilan, baron Arald, Sir Rodney and dozens of others whom he had worked with over the years.

"Why don't you just admit you're interested in Clonmel for personal reasons?" Crowley continued. "Its only natural that you feel attached to it."

"I don't feel attatched to that irrational country," Halt argued, shaken from his thoughts. "My home is here, in Araluen, in Redmont. I just thought since I was here escorting the courier Madelia to Castle Araluen anyway, I might as well drop in to say hello."

"To say hello?" Crowley snorted. "All you've wanted to talk about is what's happening in Sonderland, then Arrida, then the kingdoms of Hibernia. Just admit you're working your way to Clonmel and hoping I don't notice."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Halt dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. Of course, Crowley was dead on, and he cursed his friend for knowing him so well. They two rangers glared at each other, both somewhat stubborn and neither willing to back down.

Finally Crowley waved a wary hand. "Alright, if you're determined to be pigheaded. Nothing has changed in Kaisel, and in Clonmel the only thing is the death of one of the royal family."

Halt flinched. He couldn't help himself. "Who?" He asked, trying to be nonchalent and casual. Crowley wasn't fooled for a second. His face became much more grave- clearly he hadn't thought the news was of much importance. Which meant it wasn't the king who had died. It wasn't Ferris. Halt's parents were already deceased, so that just left Caitlyn and her son whose name he had forgotten having only heard it once and not asked about it since.

"Princess Caitlyn," Crowley said, watching his friend intently. Halt didn't care, didn't care that his frozen stance might have given him away, didn't care that his friend probably suspected some connection between him and the royal house of Hibernia. Caitlyn was dead. Dead.

It wasn't like he'd ever known her that well, he told himself. He hadn't grown up with her. In fact, he'd been friends with Crowley longer than he'd been beside his sister. Even so, he couldn't help the desolate grief that it was too late. He could never tell her that he'd had a good life since leaving Hibernia, he could never ask her about hers. He would never speak to his sister again. It was too late.

"Halt?" Crowley rose from his seat, his concern evident on his face. He rested a hand on Halt's shoulder but the ranger brushed it off.

"There see, that wasn't hard to tell me without all the argueing," Halt said. There wasn't a tremor in his voice- there never was, not when he'd told Caitlyn he was leaving Hibernia, not when Daniel and then his wife died, and there never would be.

"Halt." Crowley was never fooled by the strength in his voice. "I'm not sure what's going on with you exactly, but if you need some time off work or anything...?"

"Absolutely not," Halt shook his head feircely. "I've left that boy alone in Redmont and there'll be god knows what for me to fix up now he's been let loose."

Crowley smiled. "You mean Gilan? He is a hyperactive young man, isn't he?"

"That's an understatement," Halt said. "I swear I never had any grey hairs before her came along."

Crowley laughed, then his face became serious once more. "I meant it, you know. If you need time off work, just let me know. And if you need anyone to talk to..." he left the sentence hanging in the air with a meaningful nod.

Halt rolled his eyes. "You worry too much, like a mother hen," he said lightly, ignoring the contrasting heaviness in his heart. "But thank you, I suppose."

"You don't have to thank me," Crowley shrugged. "That's what I'm here for."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were here to write those reports?"

"Oh, thank you so much for reminding me," Crowley groaned, slumping back into his seat. "I take that whole last discussion back, if you want to ask any more questions about the state of our neighbouring countries that will result in me procrastinating then-"

"Just get writing," Halt cut him off.

…...

Back at Redmont, things weren't quite as bad as Halt had feared. Nothing had burned down- although they did suspiciously have a new stove in the cabin (the old one was broken so I replaced it, Gilan claimed)- and there weren't any bandits running around.

"How was Castle Araluen?" Gilan greeted him with the question exploding from his mouth. "Did you see Crowley? How was he? And my dad? Was he good? Why didn't you take me with you?

"Hello Gilan," Halt sighed. "I see you haven't stopped asking questions since I've been away. Well, I suppose nothing short of a miracle would cure that habit of yours."

"And I see you haven't started answering questions since you've been away," Gilan retorted. He rolled his eyes and lowered his voice in a rough imitation of his mentor. "Well, I suppose only a miracle would cure that habit..." He trailed off, catching sight of the familiar glint in his mentor's dark eyes.

"Sorry Halt," he finished.

Halt shook his head. He didn't really have the energy to berate his apprentice, he'd ridden all day to reach Redmont and Caitlyn kept coming to his mind. Sometimes she would smile at him, sometimes she would pout, but all the time a heavy sense of regret pooled in his stomache and his chest ached.

"I'm going to bed, its been a long day of riding," Halt said. "Make sure you get an early night too, Gil, you'll be up training tommorrow." He paused to shoot his apprentice a glare. "I imagine you've had a holiday in my absence."

Gilan grinned. "Me Halt? Have a holiday? No I would never! I was up at the crack of dawn yesterday shooting til my hands bled."

"You will be tommorrow," Halt said bleakly, satisfied when uncertainty crossed his apprentice's face.

He retreated to his room and lay down on his bed, but sleep would not come to him. Caitlyn just wouldn't leave his mind. The day he had run away from Hibernia, he had told her everything- how Ferris had tried to kill him, how he had to leave to be safe. She had cried and cried and clung to him, pleading with him to stay. Halt had promised her that they would meet again, when they were older and safe, he would find her wherever she was. With this promise, she had let him go with a forced smile.

Why hadn't he ever found her? Because he hadn't believed she would die, not really; he'd never thought it would be too late. He hadn't known where to begin looking for her, and he'd been absorbed in his work as a ranger. And he didn't know if she still remembered him.

Halt heard the creaking of his door and sighed at the disturbance.

"What is it?" he called. He heard the startled shuffling of his apprentice. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Gilan replied. "Just...well...you seem kind of down. I mean, more down than usual. Like your not smiles are really not smiling and you didn't threaten me at all when I made fun of you."

This boy makes no sense, Halt thought to himself. But he was touched at his apprentice's concern and he sat up.

"I suppose you could say I have unfinished business with someone," he mused. Gilan blinked up at him, clearly surprised that his mentor was sharing his thoughts.

"Then finish it," he answered immediately. Halt nodded several times.

"This time I can't finish it," he admitted.

Gilan cocked his head. He sat on the edge of the bed, completely confident in himself though Halt never let anyone into his room.

"I don't think there's any such thing as business you can't finish," he said. "My father always told me that even when a battle is over, even if twenty years or more pass, if you opponant is still out there then that war hasn't finished. He says the battle will start again, and a chance of winning will arise" He smiled up at his mentor. "Or a chance of finishing the business," he said sagely.

Halt raised an eyebrow. He suspected Sir David had been talking about Morgarath when he said that and he doubted the real message had much to do with his situation.

"I'm pretty wise, huh?" Gilan said and Halt was reminded of how much of a child the boy still was.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he said. "I can't see what that has to do with anything. And get out of my room, I'm trying to sleep."

The door closed behind his apprentice with a click. Halt lay back down, plucking at the threads of his blanket.

"A chance of finishing the business will always arise, huh?" he murmured to himself.

…...

The next morning, Halt sent a pigeon message to Crowley asking for a week off work. The reply came a few days later- take all the time you need, and would you by any chance be needing transport across the water to Hibernia?* I've organised a ship for you, and so the letter went on, outlining the details.

Now, a week later, Abelard was hoisted onto the ship via a specially designed harness, originally made by the Skandians. Halt had a firm goal in mind. He knew how to 'finish the business' how to get Caitlyn to stop haunting his mind. It had come to him in the long, lonely hours of the night, after Gilan had gone to bed.

It was all going to be fine, he knew that. He just had to meet with her one last time to ease his mind. Even though she was gone, he would still make good on his promise, because Halt never broke a promise.

There was just one issue weighing on his mind, one that had been puzzling him for many hours.

"Why," he began, crossing his arms and adopting his trademark glare, "did you two come along?"

Crowley and Gilan had identical sheepish grins. Buffoons, Halt thought, they were complete buffoons.

"Well, I am the one who organised this little trip," Crowley said happily. "So I decided I would come along to offer moral support to my dear friend." At the last two words, he reached forward to lay a hand on the greybearded ranger's shoulder. Halt glowered at him.

"More likely you wanted a break from your reports," he scowled.

"So suspicious!" Crowley feigned hurt, clutching at his chest as if he was in great pain. Halt rolled his eyes.

"So what about him?" he jerked a finger at the second year apprentice who, if anything, brightened at being addressed. "Why did he come? And who's looking after Redmont?"

Crowley clicked his tongue, leaning forward on his toes. "Well, on my way to this port I passed by Redmont and bumped into Gil. He threatened to tie me up by my ankles if I didn't let him come along!"

"I did not!" Gilan protested. "The way I remember it, you came to the cabin and invited me alo-"

Crowley clamped a hand over the apprentices mouth. "In conclusion, its all Gilan's fault and nothing to do with me."

Halt regarded the both dryly. He had hoped for a nice peaceful ride through the countryside, some quiet time alone to talk to Caitlyn, then to return to Redmont with his goal fulfilled after a relaxing break. No such luck.

"We're going to Clonmel? Is that where you're from? I've never been to Clonmel. Actually, I've never been to any part of Hibernia before," Gilan chattered away, quite happy in his ramblings.

Halt groaned aloud and rested his forhead on the railing. The ship moved away from the port, chopping over the water. He was starting to feel queasy and his apprentice wasn't helping. Neither was his Corps Commandant.

"I love travelling overseas!" Crowley sighed. "The sea air is quite bracing." He leapt onto the railing, the wind tussling his sandy hair and beard. "This is really great, all three of us relaxing on a peaceful trip. There's no pressing business when we arrive and we don't have to worry about enemies."

"I would be worrying if I were you," Halt muttered darkly, shooting his friend a bleak look. He looked pointedly out at the ocean, his eyebrows drawing together in a manner that could only hint at a threat.

Wisely, the Corps Commandant decided to move over to Gilan and talk to him.

Upon reaching shore, Crowley paid the ship's captain and they mounted, heading further inland. The wind whipped around them and they pulled their cowls over their heads, huddling in their saddles. Salt hovered in the air, gulls cried overhead, the waves crashed against the coast behind them, all fresh and sharp and wild.

"Where are we heading?" Gilan asked. This time Crowley did shush him and in his peripheral vision, Halt saw his friend gesturing for the boy to hang back. The two of them were undoubtebly whispering, but the greybearded ranger found he didn't care. He surged on ahead, lost in memories of the time he galloped along this very same coast, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ferris as possible.

It took them three days* to reach Dun Kilty, the location of Clonmel's royal castle. They didn't enter the town, or the castle, but instead circled around to a small hill. Crowley and Gilan waited at the base while Halt continued on to the graveyard at the top.

He stopped in front of his sister's grave. It was obviously new- the stone wasn't cracked, and flowers that had not yet wilted rested by the gravestone. She had been well liked, Halt saw. Some of the boquets were roses of red and white, beautifully arranged from the upper class nobles (had Ferris gotten her flowers, Halt wondered?) but the rest were made up of the wild flowers growing free in the fields. From one glance at those, Halt could tell his sister had been kind to those of a lower rank, and popular among them too.

"I'm sorry Cait," he whispered. "I've come to see you now."

He dismounted and settled down beside her grave.

"I hope life treated you well." His fingers traced her engraved name- Caitlyn O' Carraick, died age thirty three, princess of Clonmel. Below that, a smaller stone had been placed with the words 'and loving mother of Sean O' Carrick'. Some thoughtful soul must have added that, perhaps a good friend of hers. "I wish we had known each other better," Halt told her. "I wish we'd grown up together."

He could almost see the face of a young girl smiling at him- really? He heard her say. He smiled back at her, though he knew he was being absurd and he knew that voice was from a memory- from the time he pretended to lose to her in an arm wrestle and bemoaned about how strong she was.

"No," he said. "Yes. No and yes. I missed you, I wish I had known you. But I can't give up Crowley and Pauline, and Gilan and everyone else. I'm sure there are people you wouldn't have given up as well."

This time, there was no answering memory in his subconscious. He sighed and would have gone to pick her some flowers if his friends hadn't been watching.

But to his total surprise, Crowley and Gilan approached behind him and both laid a small handful of wild flowers by her grave. He started, his eyes meeting Crowleys, and the commandant smiled at him.

"I'm sorry Halt didn't pick them himself," he said, addressing the dead girl he didn't know. "I'm sure you understand how stubborn he can be." With that, he passed a third boquet to Halt for the greybearded ranger to lay down.

If Crowley noticed the name on the grave, he didn't say anything. Gilan didn't either, although Halt doubted the apprentice would know the royal family's name anyway.

"Take your time," Gilan said, looking very sincere. The two left Halt crouching by the grave.

A small tear rolled down his cheek. Just one small tear. "I hope you had friends like mine," he said and proceaded to outline a brief story of his life.

When he remounted and the three friends rode away, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Did you finish your business?" Gilan asked, genuine concern on his face.

Halt nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I did."

The sun was setting and its golden light bathed the land. A faint breeze rustled the long grass as they left the manicured civilisation of Dun Kilty and turned towards the wild places. Crowley would be swamped with reports when he got home, and Gilan was falling behind in training, but there was no one else Halt would rather have with him. And as the rode on in companiable silence, Halt glanced behind him at the graveyard on the hill only once.

Sleep well Caitlyn, he thought, codladh samh.

Then he allowed a rare smile to grace his features as they headed for home.

*transport across the water to Hibernia- sorry, I have no idea what the 'water' is called? Is it a channel? Or is it still referred to as part of the ocean?

*it took them three days...I can't actually remember how long it took them in the book.

There wasn't really much of a plot there. And gawd, I can't write Gilan...or Crowley because I can't write humour and it makes me sad coz I love Crowley so muuuuuch. Ah well, make my day and please review!