~oOo~
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Gilan raised an arm to shield his face from the savage blows, ducking for cover. Inwardly, he chided himself. He hadn't been expecting the attack, but, as Halt had drilled into his head so many times, a Ranger had to be prepared for anything. He saw his attacker prepare for another swing, and swayed deftly out of the path of the blow.
The broom handle swung past him harmlessly, slamming into the doorframe of the small cottage instead. Gilan's attacker, a small, sturdy farmer's wife in her late forties, began shouting again, punctuating her remarks with another series of whacks.
"Out of my sight! Our Ranger Crowley could beat the pants off of you and your lord Morgarath, curse his traitor hide! Get off my property before I beat the pants off you myself, and tell your traitor lord that we in Araluen Fief won't stand for anyone but a true Ranger!"
"Ma'am-" Gilan began, again dodging the broom, "I am a true Ranger - I was trained by -"
"Trained? You and your kind only train to swig wine, swish your fancy capes, and kick out proper Rangers who care about the people! Go fetch Crowley from wherever you've sent him - he's the one I want taking care of that fox, not a namby-pamby from Morgarath's court."
"I don't work for Morgarath!" Gilan all but shouted. "And Crowley's still here! I'm working with him, he was the one who appointed me here!"
The woman stopped to consider this. "If Crowley's still here, where's he? And what are you doing here?"
Gilan offered a disarming smile, something he was quite good at. "He's up at the castle where he's always been. I'm moving into the Ranger cabin - Crowley assigned me here as the secondary Ranger for Araluen Fief. I'm helping him out."
The woman looked Gilan over with a critical eye. Finally, she spoke. "Couldn't hack it in your own fief, eh?"
With an effort, Gilan managed to keep the grin on his face. "It's not that. There's not enough fiefs to go around," he explained. "And not enough manpower to go around in some of the larger fiefs, like Araluen. With the Corps back up to full strength, the Commandant has a lot more to do to run the whole operation. So I'm here to help deal with any murderous highway robbers, desperate jewel thieves, or sneaky foxes that might crop up."
The woman nodded, though she still seemed skeptical. "What about them arsonists? Set fire to my sister's friend's stable, they did, and they were aiming for her whole shop."
Gilan nodded. "We're tracking them down as well. They won't escape. And the quicker this fox issue is settled, the more time Crowley and I will have to catch them," he added meaningfully.
The woman seemed to take the hint. With a last disdainful sniff, she stepped outside to lead Gilan to the barnyard. "This way," she said. "But I'm warning you, 'secondary' Ranger, I've got my eye on you."
~oOo~
"Well, you've got to hand it to her - that's more than most people can say," laughed Crowley, as Gilan finished his story. "I have trouble keeping an eye on you myself sometimes, with how you move. Don't take it to heart. Ida can be a bit peppery at times - it'll take a little while to win her over."
Gilan gave a weary half-grin, but it was plain his mind was elsewhere. "All the same, Commandant, she is the third one since I started. Ernald the blacksmith has got it into his head that I'm your apprentice, and the innkeeper felt the same way Ida did."
"Once bitten, twice shy," said the young Commandant. "Remember - not too many years ago they had to put up with that idiot Stilson, not to mention all the other false Rangers lounging around here at headquarters. Give it time. They'll have to notice how skilled you are before too long. I have every confidence that I picked the right Ranger, Gilan, and sooner or later they'll feel the same way."
"Thank you, Crowley," said Gilan, feeling encouraged.
"Don't thank me just yet," Crowley cut in. "This batch of Battleschool reports just came in, and they need to be checked and finalized before we send them along to Lord Northolt. Of course, I'm still busy organizing everything from the cabin, and you, well, you've got experience with Battleschool. Can I - can I just-" Crowley broke off, slowly pushing the intimidating stack off his desk and into Gilan's arms. "Yes. Yes, that feels better."
Gilan glanced between his newfound burden and its source, who was now grinning wolfishly. "Somehow I disagree."
~oOo~
Gilan stumbled up the stairs of Crowley's - no, his Ranger cabin, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the low sill of the roof. Why were all the Ranger cabins built for someone so much shorter than he was, Gilan wondered. And not for the first time.
Still, it was something to finally have a Ranger cabin to himself, Gilan mused as he set the stack of Battleschool reports down on the table and dropped into a chair. He thought back to how many times he had looked forward to this moment, wondering what it would be like.
A devious grin spread across his face. Very deliberately, he leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs and relishing in the fact that no one could tell him not to.
Yes, there certainly were benefits to being a fully fledged Ranger.
If only he could convince the people of Araluen Fief that a fully fledged Ranger was what he was. He rocked back and forth on the chair, keeping his balance easily enough, deep in thought over the events of the morning. It was almost as if the doubts and worries of the last year of his apprenticeship - the voices whispering you're not ready, you'll never measure up, you'll never be able to make the decisions Halt does, had found their way outside his mind to confront him in reality.
Although, he had to admit, his own doubts had never accused him of working for Morgarath. Or hit him with a broom. Or -
Gilan was abruptly pulled out of his musings as he distinctly felt the chair overbalance beneath him. He snatched at the table to catch himself, but it was already too late to prevent the chair from toppling to the floor with an earsplitting crash.
Sheepishly, Gilan got to his feet and righted the chair, glad no one had seen. Perhaps Halt had had a point after all. Still, it probably wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been so distracted with his thoughts.
Gilan sighed. He was an optimist by nature, and it wasn't like him to spend so much time fretting over a problem that would, he was sure, resolve itself eventually. What was it Crowley had said? " Give it time. They'll have to notice how skilled you are before too long." He had to hold onto that. Sooner or later, the townsfolk would come around.
Speaking of Crowley... Gilan's eyes drifted back to the stack of reports. Being a fully fledged Ranger had its drawbacks, too. Sighing, he leaned forward and reached for the first report on the stack.
And froze.
He had seen something - a shadow, flickering at the corner of a side window. Subconsciously, his mind had picked it out as not being part of the normal pattern of shadows caused by the trees surrounding the cabin. And - there it was again at another window! Closer to the door this time.
Had Blaze warned him of someone approaching? No - Gilan would never have missed her signal. But maybe this threat hadn't come from the main road, escaping her notice.
Silently, Gilan crept forward, one hand slipping to his saxe knife. His eyes were fixed on the door, which he hadn't fully shut upon entering.
Just in time to see it slowly, noisily nudge open.
~oOo~
Thanks to drowned_in_books and littlekaracan on Archive of Our Own for beta-ing this chapter!