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Two days later Gilan and Halt found themselves approaching the magnificent Castle Redmount. The castle was much bigger than the Castle Caraway, Gilan noted. He had been here as a child about nine years ago, so he didn't remember this castle all too well. He admired the rolling green hills and the many villages that surrounded the breathtaking castle.
But, instead of heading toward this awe-inspiring castle, Halt veered left and they entered the forest yet again. Several minutes later a small cabin appeared. There was a lean-to connected to the house and a small barn was also nearby. A large water trough was beside the lean-to.
"Is this where you live?" Gilan exclaimed.
Halt nodded. Gilan noticed Halt was staring at the barn. His eyes then darted back to the cabin. Gilan squinted his eyes. He could make out a small man sitting on the verandah. Halt stiffened as if he knew the person.
As they grew closer the figure rose. Gilan spotted a long bow in the man's right hand, it was identical to Halt's. The man also wore the same strange cloak that Halt did: green and gray. The man seemed to disappear into the foliage around him.
"Crowley, what the devil are you doing here?" Halt barked.
"Oh come now Halt," Crowley complained. "I've come to pay a friendly visit."
Halt grumbled something, but he halted Abelard and swiftly dismounted. Gilan followed Halt's example.
"I see you have a new friend," Crowley began.
"This is Gilan, my new apprentice," Halt replied.
"Ah! It took you long enough, Halt," Crowley chuckled.
Gilan looked at Halt. He was Halt's apprentice. That sounded odd to him. He, Gilan, was Halt's very own apprentice...
Crowley put his hand out to Gilan. Gilan shook his hand. Crowley then rose an eyebrow. "You fight with a sword?" he asked skeptically.
Gilan bit his lower lip. He remembered his father telling him Ranger's didn't use swords. "Uh, yes. My father is Battlemaster David of Caraway Fief."
Crowley turned to Halt. "David's son?" he asked.
Gilan's face lit up. "You know my father?" he asked hopefully.
Crowley nodded. "I've heard much about your ability with a sword. You study under MacNeil?"
Gilan nodded enthusiastically. "Yes sir!"
Crowley nodded again. "Well, you should keep training," he mused.
"But... then I couldn't be Halt's apprentice..."
Crowley looked to Halt and the two men seemed to know each other's thoughts. Crowley cleared his throat. "I think Halt wouldn't mind letting you take a leave of absence every now and then, right Halt?"
Halt didn't answer. Gilan smiled again. "Really?"
"Of course, son. Now, let's eat."
-
Inside Halt's cabin a cooked stoat lay on the small two-person table. Halt grabbed another chair that was on the opposite wall and dragged it to the table. He motioned for Gilan to sit.
"What gives you the right to barge into my cabin?" Halt asked.
Crowley put his hands up in the air. "I'm the new Corps Commandant."
Halt raised an eyebrow. "About time," he replied.
"Wait, so you're the leader of the Ranger Corps?" Gilan asked Crowley in between mouthfuls of stoat.
"Yes. But, I answer to the King, all Ranger's do. That is our one and only allegiance."
The rest of the evening was relatively quiet. Crowley and Halt discussed important Ranger happenings while Gilan ate away. When the stoat was finished, Crowley stood and left.
Halt cleared the plates and then led Gilan into one of the bedrooms.
"You'll be staying here," he told Gilan.
The room had a small bed, a nightstand with a vase of fresh flowers, a desk, and a dresser. A window showed the front of the house, mainly the verandah.
"Good night, Halt," Gilan said.
"'Night Gilan," Halt replied.
Halt then closed the small wooden door and left Gilan alone with his thoughts. Gilan sat on the bed. It was surprisingly soft. He laid on his back and thought about the days events.
He missed his father. About this time his father would come wish him good-night and sometimes they would talk about their days. As a child Gilan had always wanted to take over for his father. He knew he was good with a sword, but he didn't want to be a knight. There were so many knights. He would just be one in a million. He wanted to be something more.
A Ranger fit that description. There were only fifty Rangers. One for each fief. That was something special. But, what Gilan wasn't preparted for was the isolation. He was young and cheery. He loved to tell jokes and laugh and have good time. He was still a boy and he would miss all of his friends and his family.
But, it would be all worth it.
