(A/N)
New chapter... Disclaimer... Enjoy... Blablabla...
By the way, thanks for the two reviews I've had so far! Ranger Indecisive & Ranger Robbin, you are my heroes.
Chapter 4 – Going to the gathering?
"Boo."
Gilan cringed when he realized his mentor had managed to sneak up on him yet again, this time whilst the apprentice was practicing archery. The yearly gathering of the ranger corps was only a few weeks away, and Halt still constantly managed to surprise him.
The Halt in question noticed the dejected look in his apprentice's eyes, so he spoke up: "Don't look at me like I murdered your pet rabbit, boy. You weren't startled this time, you managed to remain focused enough to hit your target. That's quite an improvement indeed. Now you'll just have to learn to aim for suspicious people sneaking up on you rather than that bale of straw."
Gilan indeed seemed considerably cheered up now. The young apprentice even attempted a sarcastic remark.
"Does that mean I have to aim for you?"
"If you want to be arrested for treason upon killing a king's ranger I'd say yes. I'm glad I won't be alive to explain it to your father if that is the case."
Gilan just shook his head. He had long since accepted that Halt would always have the last word. His mentor was now asking for his attention again though.
"Clean this mess up.", Halt said, gesturing at the arrow-filled target. "Your unseen movement is passable, it improved with the new cloak, but if you want that bronze oak leaf you'll have to do something about your silent movement before the gathering." That reminded Gilan of something.
"About that cloak, will the cloak-maker come to the gathering too? I mean, Old Bob said he would come, and he's a horse trainer, not a real ranger, and she works for the ranger corps too, so I thought…"
"Apprentices don't think, they aren't ready for that!", Halt interrupted Gilan's ramblings. He fixed the youth with a stern glare, but explained anyway.
"Old Bob is an auxiliary ranger. When someone works with our corps as closely they're bound to find out some secrets." Halt paused a moment for the dramatic effect, "Like all the ranger horses' codewords, something we don't want to leak out. Of course we only choose reliable people for such positions, but just to be sure we have them all swear oaths. In exchange for that they get to wear an oak leaf too – a copper one – which gives them many of the privileges only rangers have. Like the right to poach, which is according to Crowley the reason why this girl finally joined the corps as an auxiliary."
It took a while before the penny dropped. "She's one of these auxiliaries.", Gilan stated, "She'll be there then?"
Halt just rolled his eyes. "Probably, Crowley says they aren't sure yet."
Indeed, the cloak-maker and the ranger were discussing exactly that at the very moment, many miles away in Caraway fief. They trotted along the river Semath, which formed part of the border of the fief, checking for suspicious vessels while they spoke. Verita rode Crowley's pack pony, and for someone who had only recently learned to ride she managed quite well on the lazy old animal. She couldn't ride with both legs on one side of the horse though, so she wore pants for the occasion and rode astride. Not that anyone noticed her as a girl when she had her cloak's hood up like now.
"The ranger commander specifically asked me to bring you to the gathering, he wants to meet you."
"Caraway adjoins Araluen fief. If he really wants to meet me I'm but a three hour ride away. He, I or whomever visits whom can be back home before dinner.", was Verita's swift retort.
"Rita…", he whined.
"We've been over this again and again, Crow. I'm the only female in a corps full of men. I'm half a decade younger than even the apprentices. I'm no good with loads of new people and I've never even left this fief. The gathering would be no place for me."
Crowley sighed, but then a plan formed in his mind.
"Berrigan – a friend of mine – is staying in the village for a few days. He was a ranger once, but he lost half a leg in a fight, so he had to retreat from active service. He earns his living as a jongleur now, a profession which makes him very useful for gathering information. That's why he got a copper oak leaf like yours, he sometimes helps with missions, which made us consider him an auxiliary. The auxiliaries tend to stick together at gatherings while the full rangers handle their ranger business, so if I introduce you to him now, and you two like each other, I'm sure he'll look out for you a bit."
Verita considered it. "That's a good point. But then I'm still an eleven-year-old girl."
"You floored a Skandian at arm wrestling.", Crowley reminded her, thinking of a rather memorable moment when they were checking the local pubs.
"Because I kicked him in the shins under the table, yes.", Verita sulked in reply with one eyebrow raised.
"Ah, so that's how you won!", Crowley said, realization dawning. "But that's not how I meant it. I mean that you're tough. You don't run away screaming when you spot an insect. I don't meant to, errr, diminish your femininity or something, but the guys will accept you as one of them."
"But then I'm still only eleven years old.", the girl interjected quietly.
"Eleven and a half, and you hardly look the part.", Crowley diminished her concerns. Indeed, she'd had quite a growth spurt during the half year that she'd worked as an auxiliary ranger, and was now taller than her ranger friend. It seemed that the peace that came with a steady income, a certain future and the nearly constant companionship of an older confidant had done her a world of good.
"Wear a ranger cloak and you'll easily pass for fifteen or older."
Verita looked Crowley square in the eye and heaved a long, suffering sigh.
"Just where will we find this Berrigan person?"