I'm so sorry I didn't update in so long! Don't kill me! Kill my school. (Homework is evilll...)

Anyway, now that I finally have some free time to write stories instead of working on idiotic projects, here is the third chapter! :)


"Wake up, boy."

Gilan groaned and rolled over onto his other side.

Halt sighed impatiently. "Come on. There could be enemy spies sneaking up on us right now."

With a jolt, Gilan burst out of his blankets. "What? Where? Who are they? Why-?"

"Anyways," Halt continued smoothly, interrupting him, "it's your turn for watch."

"B-but...what if I make a mistake? Or what if I fall asleep?" Gilan asked. His eyes widened as he remembered some of the more somber tales his father had told him and Meralyn about camping out in the wild.

"You won't, if you know what's good for you," Halt answered, surprising Gilan, who looked up to see if there was any sign of humor in his dark eyes.

Nothing.

"Thanks," Gilan muttered as he got to his feet and followed Halt towards the rocky outcrop where the grizzled Ranger had kept watch.

"You're welcome. Now, boy, put on your cloak."

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot about it last night!" Gilan rushed to his saddlebags on Wildfire, then produced the traditional camouflage cloak of the Rangers that Halt had given him several days ago.

Halt nodded as he swung it around his shoulders. "So far so good. Now come back over here and listen closely."

Gilan obeyed instantly.

"We Rangers never choose the campsite itself as a place to keep watch. Do you know why?"

Gilan hesitated as he thought that one over. He had only just turned fourteen, and wasn't sure how much he would really know about being a Ranger. "Um...to be able to see farther?"

To his surprise, Halt nodded. "Partly. The thing is, if you're at the campsite, it's very hard not to look at the campfire. And what did I tell you during that first week you trained with me?"

"'All bright light ruins your night vision,'" Gilan answered promptly.

"Not bad. I see your memory isn't as horrible as most teenagers' memories are."

Gilan swelled up. Even though he had barely known Halt all his life, he had realized early enough that the grim Ranger didn't give unnecessary praise.

"However, there's more to it," Halt added before the boy could get too proud of himself. "This way, anybody trying to sneak up on the campsite is less likely to see us."

Gilan nodded, feeling that some response was required of him. "All right...but how do you actually keep watch? I mean...what do you look for? And do you move at all?"

"Of course, boy! If you didn't move you would die from boredom in the first hour!" The intensity behind Halt's exclamation surprised Gilan. But then the Ranger continued, "And moving around makes sure your senses explore in all directions, not just straight ahead. It also ensures that you catch more, and switch your focus of vision constantly. That way, you see five meters away, over that knoll there-" Halt pointed-"and all around the campsite." He waved his hand.

"Can I see how you do it?" Gilan asked. Eager as he was to prove himself, he didn't want to do it wrong from the very first time.

A tiny light of approval glimmered in Halt's eye, but then it was gone before Gilan could notice it, just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Very well. Watch closely," he said as he slipped two arrows from his quiver and set the arrow nocks close to the bowstring. Before Gilan could ask, he said, "I do this so that, when I need to shoot, I don't have excessive movement that might alert an attacker to where I am."

Gilan nodded.

"See how my eyes are switching focus constantly? I'll look a few meters out, then look all the way up to that knoll and the area surrounding it. My eyes never stop moving. I never stop processing information, listening to the sounds of the night, straining my eyes to search for any possible enemies.

"Now, we also have to move around from time to time. To make sure my movement walking around the campsite is as indistinguishable as possible, I walk slowly," Halt said. "Walk in a nice circle, and if you hear a sound, turn slowly and try to identify it."

Gilan nodded again, then moved out further from the campsite and tried it for himself. Once, he stumbled over a hidden rock. But otherwise, he felt that he'd managed to do the job quite well, considering. He came back to Halt and looked expectantly at him.

"Not bad for your first time," Halt said gruffly. "But you've got a long way to go." There was a pause where Halt seemed to be deciding something. Then he nodded and continued, "Tell you what. I'll watch you for the first half-hour or so of your watch and give you some pointers. Then I'll leave you to your own devices for the rest of your watch. Alright?"

Gilan nodded. But then a thought struck him. "But...what if I hear something? What if an enemy is coming towards us?"

Halt stared at him for a long moment before answering. "Stay out of sight and don't move immediately. If it's an enemy, shoot to wound him."

"And then yell for me," he added as an after-thought.


Gilan was struggling to stay awake. He'd been on watch for over three hours now. The sky was beginning to brighten, and all around him, the birds were gradually awakening and distracting him. One fluttered over his head, another soared down to land on that branch behind him.

"Attune yourself to the natural sounds. That way, you'll hear any foreign sound," Halt's words echoed in his head.

Gilan jerked awake, shocked. He couldn't believe he'd let Halt down already! His mentor had entrusted him with a big responsibility. And when there was only half-an-hour left, he couldn't even keep watch over the camp!

Cheeks flaming, he decided to wake Halt up and tell him exactly what had happened. He stretched his aching muscles and was about to walk back to the campsite when a rough hand clamped over his mouth!

He fought valiantly against his captor, and at first he seemed to be winning. Gilan was a vicious young man with a lot of energy.

But then he felt a blinding flash of pain behind his right ear and everything turned black.


"Gilan!"

Halt cursed as he stumbled over an unseen tree root. He rubbed his foot and looked anxiously around him. Where could the boy possibly be?

Great, Halt thought bitterly as he kept searching for Gilan around the campsite. The second week, and the boy is already missing! Some mentor I am. What am I going to tell David?

And then he stopped in his tracks as he saw something.

Cloth!

Halt inspected the loose fibers and nodded. They were from a Ranger cloak, all right. But why would Gilan be so careless as to let the cloak get caught on the tree branch? That was one of the very first lessons they'd gone through while riding towards Redmont.

He widened his focus and was instantly rewarded with a scene of completely trampled-down grass. Signs of a struggle.

Halt went down on one knee and examined the ground more closely. The grass was flattened in jumbled, random clumps on one side, while the other side had more even and controlled tufts.

So the struggle had happened only a little while ago. Less than an hour ago. And the person with calm movements had quickly overpowered the-

Halt caught his breath. Which way had that person taken Gilan?

The grass was flattened in two shallow furrows leading away from the campsite. So he'd been knocked out, then dragged away by someone.

But why would Gilan be taken prisoner?

Halt shrugged. Right now, it didn't matter why they were taking him. Where they were taking him? Now that mattered.


He was upside-down, tied to and bouncing against something hard.

Gilan groaned, almost inaudibly as the thing he was riding on sped up, but his captor still heard him.

The horse, for that was indeed what he'd been slung unceremoniously on, stopped quickly. Gilan groaned again and tried unsuccessfully to get rid of the unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"Don't think you'll try to overpower me again, will you, Sir High-and-Mighty-Gilan?" his captor asked, having dismounted.

That low, boasting voice...he'd heard it before. But where?

Suddenly he gasped. "Daltien..."

"Took you long enough," his captor whispered, shaking him fiercely. "And that's the least of your worries. MacNeil has sworn to tan the skin off your backside."

Gilan nearly groaned aloud yet again, but determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of Daltien. Instead he asked, "So why did you come after me?"

He received a stinging blow to his head.

"Don't sass me, boy," Daltien growled. "And don't try to find out any further information. You're a nasty Sneaker now, though not a very well-trained one if I say so, myself."

Gilan bit back the angry retort that sprang to his lips. Instead, he forced himself to calm down and, despite Daltien's previous warning, had to ask another question: "What did I do to make MacNeil so angry?"

Daltien mounted his jet-black battlehorse again, smirking down at Gilan.

"According to all the evidence, you attacked my mother."


O.o Wow, that was another long chapter. But anyway, since I didn't do this at the beginning, thanks to all my reviewers! Hope this doesn't disappoint. :)