Hey guys! Sorry if these next few chapters are kinda crappy. My plot bunny must have gone on summer vacation early. Enjoy!
~Kat
Chapter 4
"ACHOO!"
Gilan sniffled and blew his nose loudly, throwing his tissue out the window beside his bed. He drew the blanket closer to himself and rolled over. He hated being sick, especially when he had to go to Battleschool training. He cursed himself for being so careless and falling in the river, if he hadn't done that, he would have been perfectly fine. He shuddered violently and shifted uncomfortably under the blanket.
I'd prefer the bear right about now. He thought to himself.
Gilan moaned and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The door creaked open quietly and Halt appeared with a hot cup of coffee.
"How are you feeling?" he asked handing Gilan the cup.
Gilan narrowed his eyes and sighed. "Not too good."
"Sit up when you drink that," Halt said. "Or else you'll spill it all over yourself."
Gilan reluctantly sat up and sipped occasionally at the coffee.
"You know you still have to go to your lesson today." Halt pointed out.
Gilan set the cup down on the table beside his bed and pulled the blanket over his head, moaning loudly. "I don't have to go." he replied from under the blanket.
Halt half smiled and pulled the blanket away from his apprentice. "Yes you do, now get up."
With that the grizzled ranger turned around and left the room. Gilan stared after his mentor and stuck out his tongue. He swung off the blanket and slowly got to his feet. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he leaned against the wall for support. He sloppily threw on his Ranger uniform and sighed deeply. He walked to the door and stepped outside, squinting in the harsh sunlight.
Halt was already mounted on Abelard, waiting for Gilan who slowly mounted Blaze. Gilan slumped wearily in the saddle gently moved Blaze forward. Halt eyed his apprentice with concern but led the way to the Battleschool. In truth, Halt was reluctant to let Gilan go to training today too, but he knew that if an apprentice was sick at Battleschool they would have to train anyway, the same rules applied to his apprentice.
As they rode on the path to the Battleschool, Gilan slowed Blaze numerous times due to an upset stomach. As soon as the nausea passed, he encouraged the horse to speed up. Blaze shook her head in protest but sped up at Gilan's request. Gilan's stomach lurched as the horse trotted to keep up with Halt and he slowed the bay mare once again, this time sliding off the horse's back and stumbling toward the trees. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and moaned loudly. Halt glanced back, noticing his sick apprentice and hastily dismounted Abelard. He ran over to Gilan and patted his back gently.
"Are you going to throw up?" he asked quickly.
Gilan screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. "No, I-" but before he could finish his sentence he bent over and threw up in the bushes.
Halt rubbed his back and led him back to the path when he was done.
"I can tell MacNeil you were too ill to come," Halt finally said as he helped Gilan to Blaze.
Gilan shook his head and leaned against the tall bay mare. "No, I haven't been there in a while," he replied quietly. "I need to go today."
Halt hesitated, deciding what to do, then gave the apprentice an approving nod. "Alright, but I'm going to stay in case you need to leave early."
Gilan nodded and mounted Blaze slowly. Halt mounted his own horse then the two set off toward the Battleschool again.
"Great form!" MacNeil commented as Gilan sparred with a Battleschool apprentice. "But your strikes are a little weak today. Go ahead and take a break you two."
Both Gilan and the apprentice sighed with relief and broke away from each other. MacNeil clapped Gilan on the back and grinned at him.
"You're improving very fast!" he exclaimed. "Your father should be proud."
Gilan returned the smile halfheartedly and leaned against a fence post, twirling the sword in his hand.
"Are you alright Gil?" MacNeil asked, his smile fading.
Gilan shrugged. "Just a little sick, that's all."
MacNeil frowned and crossed his arms. "Well, you could have told me that before I paired you with one of our most advanced apprentices."
Gilan's eyes flicked up to the large apprentice staring daggers at him from across the field.
"He seems annoyed." Gilan sighed.
MacNeil shook his head. "He's just not used to losing, especially to someone who isn't even in the Battleschool." he explained. "Would you like to continue? or do you need to go home?"
"I'm fine to continue," Gilan responded. "Besides, Halt is over there watching." he gestured to a distant hill where a small figure was leaning against the wooden fence. "He'll take me out of he thinks I need to leave."
"Very well." MacNeil sighed. "Lucas, come!" The swordsman waved over the large Battleschool apprentice who was eagerly waiting to continue.
Lucas cracked his neck and made his way to the middle of the field where Gilan was standing.
"There will be three rounds," MacNeil began. "Ready," Gilan and Lucas got into the correct stance and held their wooden swords up.
"Begin!"
Lucas thrust the sword forward, but Gilan blocked it swiftly and landed a hard blow to Lucas' shoulder, causing the older apprentice to grunt in pain. Lucas swung his sword at Gilan out of pure fury, but Gilan ducked and caught Lucas right in the chest.
"Cease!" MacNeil exclaimed. "Round 1 goes to Gilan!"
Lucas tightened his jaw and clutched his sword harder.
"Ready...Begin!"
This time Gilan struck first. In one fluid motion, he swung his sword low and caught Lucas' ankle causing the Battleschool apprentice to fall backward onto his back. Gilan landed a soft blow to the apprentice's chest, once again ending the round as quick as it had started.
"Cease!" MacNeil called with surprise. "Round 2 goes to Gilan!"
Lucas stared at the smaller apprentice with shock, but his shock was quickly replaced with anger. He leapt to his feet and Gilan noted that his knuckles were turning white from holding the sword too tight. Gilan took a step away from Lucas who's eyes were burning with fury.
"Lucas," MacNeil warned. "Do you need a substitute?"
Lucas, suddenly becoming self-conscious, blinked and smiled sweetly at the Swordsman.
"No," he replied with faux sincerity. "I apologize for my aggression."
MacNeil smiled and nodded with approval. Gilan however, eyed him suspiciously. Battleschool apprentices weren't that polite.
"Well then, we will proceed with round three." MacNeil continued. "Ready..." Lucas narrowed his eyes and dropped into his stance. Gilan did the same and held his sword nervously.
"Begin!"
There was a small moment of quiet anticipation as both boys waited for the other to move. Lucas decided to take the first action. He attempted the same motion of aiming for the ankles as Gilan did, but Gilan jumped as the wooden sword came toward him. He landed on top of the sword, and swung his own sword at Lucas' neck. The Battleschool apprentice dropped his sword and ducked, narrowly missing the blow. He swiftly swung his legs in a wide arch, connecting with Gilan's ankles and sending the Ranger apprentice tumbling to the ground.
Lucas scrambled to retrieve his sword and brought it down on Gilan, who quickly rolled away. Gilan leapt to his feet and flicked his sword up, blocking a vicious strike. Suddenly, Lucas reached out and grabbed Gilan's arm, throwing him roughly to the ground and brought his sword down hard on the apprentice's side. Gilan heard a small crack and gasped in pain, dropping his sword.
"Cease!" MacNeil shouted. "Lucas, physical contact without a sword is against the rules, therefore-"
"Sir MacNeil if I may," Lucas interrupted. "there aren't any rules in a real swordfight, and physical contact isn't against the rules, it's just frowned upon."
MacNeil, who was helping Gilan to his feet, narrowed his eyes. "Think you know everything do you, Redding?" he snapped. "Your dismissed get out of my sight."
Lucas sneered and offered a mock bow to Gilan who rubbed his side gingerly. With that the massive Battleschool apprentice threw his sword aside and walked away.
"Are you alright?" a voice from behind the two asked.
MacNeil and Gilan turned around to see Halt eyeing Gilan with concern.
Gilan nodded. "I think I have a bruised rib but other than that I'll live." he responded. "How did you get down here that fast?"
Halt gave a quick nod and turned around without answering Gilan's question. Gilan shrugged as he watched his mentor disappear into the trees to return to his initial post.
"Well then!" MacNeil's cheerful voice grabbed Gilan's wandering attention. "Shall we move onto the wooden posts?"
Gilan smiled sheepishly and nodded.
Gilan yawned as he placed his wooden sword down beside the fence post. He ached from the long day of training, but also from being sick. He couldn't wait to just get back to the cabin and rest. He stretched his sore muscles and made his way to the tree line where he would meet Halt on the path. Gilan ducked under a low hanging branch as he walked into the trees but stopped when he heard a twig snap from behind him.
"Well, well, well," a chilling voice sang. "If it isn't the sneaking little Ranger brat."
Gilan spun around to find five massive Battleschool apprentices snickering at him. Gilan was most focused on the one in the middle, Lucas.
"If you think your going to get away with making me look like a fool, your wrong." Lucas hissed.
Gilan raised an eyebrow much like Halt would, and crossed his arms. "I think your very capable of looking like a fool without me, Mucus." he snapped.
A stunned silence settled on the group of apprentices and Lucas narrowed his eyes. Lucas broke the silence by balling up his fist and punched Gilan square in the face, knocking the smaller apprentice off his feet. Gilan's vision darkened as he hit the ground and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Lucas reached down and hauled Gilan to his feet, pinning him roughly against a tree.
"I outta skin you for saying that!" he growled. Then a sickening smile spread across his face and he reached one hand into his back pocket, pulling out a large knife.
"In fact, I think I will." he sneered, holding the knife against Gilan's neck. "How does that sound, sneaker?"
Gilan struggled hard against the massive apprentice's iron grip, only to feel the cold metal press against his neck harder.
"Halt!" he cried desperately as a few beads of blood appeared under the knife.
The Battleschool apprentices laughed at his cries for help and began mocking him.
"Aww, is the wittle baby scared?" Lucas pouted with amusement. Then his fake pout twisted into a maniacal smile. "Because you should be."
"Let him go." growled a menacing voice from beside them.
The apprentices jumped and turned to see who the voice belonged to. Some of the apprentices paled and backed away. Gilan's spirits soared when he saw his mentor appear from behind a tree. He was holding his longbow loosely in his left hand and a sharp arrow in his right.
"Unless you want a few arrows through you." Halt continued, glaring at each one of the apprentices.
Gilan felt Lucas' grip on the knife slacken and he let out a quick sigh of relief.
"Stay out of this old man, it's none of your business." Lucas snapped, forcefully shoving Gilan harder against the tree.
Mistake Number 1. Gilan snickered to himself.
"It is my business when your threatening my apprentice." Halt said plainly, and slowly nocked the arrow.
Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes, but his cohorts inched away.
"I will not hesitate to shoot you, and I will not ask you again." the Ranger continued. "Let. Him. Go."
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Make me."
Gilan suddenly let out a short laugh, but was silenced by the force of the cold knife.
"What are you laughing at Ranger brat?" he hissed.
Gilan smiled smugly. "Mistake Number 2," he snickered. "And that's as many as Halt allows."
The short cry of one of Lucas' friends drew away the pair's attention. Lucas looked over his shoulder to find all his companions unconscious on the ground with Halt standing over them. Halt drew back his bow and narrowed his eyes. A look of horror flashed across Lucas' face and he quickly released Gilan who sank to the ground with relief and wiped the blood off his neck.
"Get out of my sight before I make sure an arrow is the last thing you ever see." Halt snapped.
Lucas scrambled backward and dashed away, dropping his knife in the process. Gilan felt a tear of relief slide down his face and he quickly brushed it away. Halt lowered his bow and hurried over to Gilan, quickly dropping to one knee beside him. He wrapped his arms comfortingly around his apprentice who was stifling back tears.
"It's alright Gilan, he's gone." Halt said, helping Gilan to his feet.
"I know," Gilan sniffed. "It was just-" he suddenly cut himself off.
"It was what?" Halt asked curiously. Gilan shook his head and shrugged. Halt nodded with realization and sighed.
"Gilan, it's okay to say you were scared," he said softly. "Anyone would be in your situation."
Gilan glanced at his mentor thankfully and brushed away a few tears. "Thanks for helping me out."
Halt allowed himself a small smile and gave his apprentice a brief, rare hug. "It's why I'm here."
"I can't wait to get home and sleep all day." Gilan said as he bounded to Blaze. "I sure hope I gave my illness to that jerk." he added disdainfully.
Blaze whinnied in agreement.
"I do too." Halt replied quietly as he mounted Abelard.
And that was chapter 4! Sorry if it was sucky. I know it was a little long but meh, who cares. I really hope you all enjoyed it. though. Please review! We love hearing what you guys have to say, and we love suggestions too!
~Kat
