A/N: Hi Everyone! I hope you are all doing well. I got this chapter out much later than I wanted, but November was very hectic for me (got slammed with so much stuff at work, school, and home) and, on top of that, disaster struck when my computer crashed and lost everything I'd done for this chapter aside from the bare bones of my rough draft. It was difficult to bring it back from that, and frustrating too because I know that what I have now isn't quite the same as what I had before and I can't seem to shake the feeling that it's not as good as it once was either. That said, I apologize if the quality of this chapter seems lower than usual, but I'm not sure what else I can do to fix it )X ...I'm not having a very good time XD Anyway, I hope this chapter proves enjoyable! Thanks for reading. And thank you all so much for all your support, I wouldn't be able to do it without you guys.
*Edit 12/8* I realized some of the dialogue I wrote in the beginning of Will's part got cut out when uploaded it here, so I put it back XD
KiiroDora: Thanks so much! I'm glad you like it (both the editing and the story itself) XD. I can't get enough of Halt being a father figure to Will, Horace, and Gilan too. Thanks again for your review! I really appreciate it.
Dragonslover98: No, you're right, it's not the whole story, but you'll get most of it this chapter and the rest of it in the next chapter for sure. There will definitely be some Wargal bashing in the future too. It was pretty fun reversing that scene this time around. And I thought it pretty fitting since the first part was flipped already. Thanks so much for your review! It made my day to read.
Guest: Thanks so much for your review! I really enjoy all their relationships in the book so I couldn't help making sure they all got included/rebuilt in this AU. Glad to know you enjoyed it! Thanks again!
WhatIsLifeIfYouArntLiving: Awww, thanks so much for the compliment and the review. It means a lot!
Rosalie Barvik: Thanks :3 I'm happy you thought it turned out alright. I always wished we could get a little more about Gilan and his relationship with his father in cannon. It's pretty frustrating how little we know about certain characters. But, on the other hand, it does give us fanfiction writers more to work with. I love the Gilan/Horace/Will dynamic too. They always make me smile. Thank you so much for your review!
Oceanera12: I'm glad you liked it! I promise most of the answers to that question are in this chapter (and the rest the in the next) I thought it'd be kind of fun to reverse what happened before completely since it was already flipped on its head by circumstances XD Glad you think I'm doing angry Gilan alright, I was worried about that. Thanks so for the review! I was super happy to read it!
Random Flyer: It's actually going more slowly than I anticipated, sorry about that. I really didn't mean to drag it out like this and thought I'd have most of the answers out last week, but it turns out there were just too many characters that needed interactions to do it as quickly as I thought. Halt and Will will be fine again for sure. Don't worry, Crowley will make an appearance soon. Thanks so much for your suggestion. I tend to use that word overmuch and I know it—sometimes I lose track. I'm going to try and be more mindful in the future. Thanks again for the review and the help! I appreciate it.
TrustTheCloak: I love Horace Halt and Will together, so that part was pretty fun to write. And poor Gil and his dad are in a pretty tough spot, and yeah, they definitely have a lot of hurt and misunderstandings to get over before they can patch things up. Thanks for being patient with my terrible writing schedule. X) It does take a lot of time to make it nice—I just wish I had more time to dedicate to writing than I do at the moment. You're welcome :3 Also, thanks so much for your review! It brightened my day.
Jammeke: I love Will and Horace, and I totally bet they'd be the same at their core in any universe. Thanks! I'm glad you liked them (I really enjoyed writing those parts) You are pretty on point with your guesses. Most of the answers to those questions are in this chapter and the rest will be in the next for sure. Yeah, poor David doesn't really have much to work with. I always thought that Gilan would be the type to do that (glad I'm not the only one) X) Hope this chapter is enjoyable too! Thanks so much for your review! I super appreciate it!
Gerbilfriend: I thought that if that situation were to happen, Halt would very much be trying his best to rebuild his relationship with his boys XD And I also thought it was about time for Will and Horace to find their true loves XD Thanks so much for the review!
End300: You're welcome :D Also thanks so much :3 Wow, I guess it has been two years hasn't it? It's kinda crazy to think about. I'm really glad that the last chapter lived up to the expectations. The broken relationship theme has been a really fun one to explore and write about. Also, thanks for catching that mistake. I made certain to fix it soon as I could. Thanks again for your kind words, it really means a lot!
lychee: Thanks so much for the review! Trying to write with those kinds of dichotomies has been pretty challenging, but also sort of inevitable sometimes with the situation. I'm glad it comes across well. Thanks again! I really appreciate it.
RangerPippin: Awww :3 Thanks so much! You're review totally made my day to read. It was super encouraging. That's actually been one of the fun, yet tricky, parts about all this—trying to find new places for everything that came before in a natural way. Yes, most of the answers to that will be in this chapter (towards the end mostly) and the next chapter. Thanks again!
HaltAndCrowley: Thank you! I hope the next chapter proves worth the wait. Thanks again for the review!
Chapter 21: Highcliff Fief Part III
~x~X~x~
Highcliff Castle was definitely impressive, Will decided as he looked it over from the rise. Having never really seen a castle up close before, it was a sight to behold. It looked similar to the garrison outposts he'd seen but on a much larger scale. What made Highcliff Castle truly amazing though was a combination of where and how it had been built: on a promontory that spanned out into the ocean. It crouched menacingly on that island of land while white foamy waves crashed far below—only reachable via a narrow land-bridge that spanned the distance.
"You'll catch flies that way." Halt said mildly from beside him.
Will belatedly, and a little sheepishly, closed his mouth. He hadn't even realized that he'd opened it while staring in awe at the building. He snuck a glance at Horace, but the bigger boy didn't seem as overawed by the castle as Will was. That was probably because he'd lived in one before, Will remembered, albeit a touch late. Horace caught his look.
"First castle?" he asked with a grin, slinging a companionable arm around Will's shoulder. "They may look impressive on the outside, but believe me on the inside they're damp, cold, drafty—"
"And, if that doesn't kill you, then all the formality certainly will," Gilan put in from behind them, patting his horse's neck.
"That's why Rangers refuse to live in them," Halt agreed as he scanned the area before him.
"I thought you always told me it was because staying separate gives Rangers the autonomy to remain objective and see the bigger picture?" Gilan asked, archly.
"That too," Halt said wolfishly. "Look." He pointed to the guard tower that blocked the way to the land bridge. "I believe that might be Sir David, waiting for us."
"That's him," Gilan affirmed quietly, some of the levity leaving his manner.
Alerted by the tone and expecting to see a less than savory sort of person, Will followed the line of the former Ranger's pointing finger to see that there was indeed a knight standing just outside the guardhouse—and was mildly surprised by what he saw, or rather what he didn't see. Even at a distance, the knight seemed as impressive as the castle he came from. He looked almost exactly like what he had always pictured a heroic and honorable knight to look like: what he had always pictured his father looking like… Well, except for the fact that he wasn't riding a white horse. Sir David, he remembered from Halt and Gilan's briefings, was no less than the Battlemaster of Highcliff Fief. He wondered then if his father had ever held such an exalted position—then decided there was a good chance that he had. Will looked back when Halt spoke.
"We'd best go meet him then," Halt said, already leading the way towards the guard tower. Everyone followed in his wake.
Will felt his heart beat a little faster. He licked his suddenly dry lips in nervous anticipation of what was to come. Soon both he and Horace would be in the thick of their first solo mission. Halt and Gilan had discussed it in fairly great detail on the way over after they had packed and left the inn. They were going to remain at Highcliff Castle while Halt and Gilan traveled with the knights to rout the Wargals.
It had all started when Halt admitted that he wasn't certain that the Wargal party that had snuck into the fief was the full attack force. Morgarath, as Halt had explained, might well have another force poised to attack the castle while his main force was engaged elsewhere. Though Halt had been fairly certain that wasn't the case, he said he wouldn't put such a plan past Morgarath. Therefore, it would be better for Will and Horace to act as reserves; or, if worse came to worse, act as messengers to alert the nearby garrisons.
They also had a secondary mission—one that Halt had explained could be just vital than the first. The grim former Ranger had instructed both of them to keep an ear to the ground for any hint to, or news of, a potential spy or a traitor, anyone who could be feeding information to Morgarath: perhaps a solder or a knight that was ranked highly enough to command minor troop movements, or someone with influence over troop movements. That was because he and Gilan had suspected that the time overlap at the watchtowers might not have been due to simple coincidence or a mistake. Will's thoughts had been running along similar lines, so he'd agreed easily.
Regardless, soon he and Horace would be on their own. And, every step they took towards the knight, took them closer to that. Will couldn't quite say how he felt about that. On one hand, he was a little disappointed not to be going with Halt and Gilan. But on the other hand, he'd understood how important their mission could be and was both proud and nervous that Halt and Gilan thought they were ready for it.
They finally stopped short when they were about a meter from the knight.
"Gilan," the Battlemaster greeted tiredly, but respectfully.
"Sir," Gilan returned the greeting with a small inclination of his head.
Will studied the knight unobtrusively from where he stood but still couldn't quite see what it was that Gilan didn't seem to like or trust about him. Sir David was just as impressive close up as he had been far away. Will's eyes went from the shiny and well-tended armor to the man's face. Though they were tired and almost sad, his eyes seemed surprisingly kind.
"I take it that this is your mentor and apprentices?" Sir David asked courteously, extending his greeting to Will, Horace, and Halt as Gilan introduced them in turn. Then he straightened, gesturing towards the bridge. "The Baron is expecting us soon. We should make haste."
"Far be it from me to keep him waiting," Halt said, already following after the Battlemaster.
Though Halt's tone seemed inflectionless, Will was beginning to get used to his manner and thought he could detect a hint of sarcasm in his words. The knight hadn't seemed to notice though.
Will was just about to follow after when Gilan suddenly stopped both him and Horace.
"Hold up a moment, boys," Gilan said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders to look them in the eyes. "While you're at the castle, I need you both to promise to keep a watch out for yourselves and each other. Keep your eyes open and always pay close attention to your surroundings. Stay out of the way of the Baron, his senior staff, and his knights as much as possible. And, most importantly, don't ever trust anyone blindly, understand?"
"Yes, Sir," Horace said earnestly as Will nodded.
Will shifted, feeling a little apprehensive as he noted the urgency that had tinged Gilan's request and expression. For the first time in memory, Gilan seemed concerned, almost anxious. That spoke volumes to his seriousness and the potential seriousness of their situation too. There was something about Highcliff Fief and its people that Gilan seemed leery of and Will trusted his judgment. After all, if what Halt had said was true, then Gilan had lived here before and so was bound to know if it wasn't safe. The woodsman met both of their eyes until he was certain they understood before he nodded once and moved to catch up to Halt and Sir David. Will and Horace followed apprehensively and they made their way across the bridge to the castle together.
The knights at the gate saluted when Sir David drew near and they were allowed into the castle without trouble. Will supposed that was likely to happen if a person was being escorted by none other than the Battlemaster himself. They had just made it through the portcullis when a stable boy approached, offering to take care of Gilan's horse. Gilan, always one who preferred tending to his mount himself, hesitated before eventually agreeing to the boy's offer. No sooner was the stablehand leading Gilan's horse away, then another servant approached, this one at the Battlemaster's signal.
"Sir?" he asked with a bow.
"Alfonse, would you please take these two boys to wait with young Lady Alyss while we meet with the Baron?" When the servant bowed his agreement and beckoned to Will and Horace, Sir David turned to Gilan and Halt to explain. "Alyss is the apprentice of a Courier who is visiting the castle: one who often works with Baron Arald. They should be safe and well cared for with her entourage," Sir David said. Then he added, "also, I thought they might feel more comfortable around people their own age."
His words mollified Will a little and both he and Horace glanced at Halt and Gilan for permission or confirmation. Both men nodded silently. Only then did the two of them follow after the servant: Will taking care to sweep their surroundings as they went. He only glanced back once. Though when he did, he thought he saw Halt looking at him with a measure of something in his eyes… approval Will thought, more than a little surprised. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel the sudden warm glow of pride. He found himself a little taken aback and confused at the realization. Mostly, it was because he didn't know how the former Ranger's approval had suddenly started to mean so much to him… or why. But there was just something… something so familiar, both warm and bittersweet that… He lost his train of thought and shook his head, focusing back on the servant as they began to make their way into the castle itself.
Will soon found himself completely distracted by the sights. If he'd thought the outside of the castle was impressive then the inside was even more so. He'd once thought that the Ealdorman of Bawtry Village had an enormous and impressive house, but this was on another scale entirely. It made all the village houses that he'd once known so well look minuscule and flimsily constructed in his memory.
Will and Horace followed the servant through an arched passageway into a large anteroom. Will only had enough time to gawk at some of the more impressive tapestries that hung from the wall before the servant led them up several flights of stairs and then paused to knock at a door. It took only a moment before the door swung open to reveal a tall, slim girl with ash-blond hair—a familiar girl Will realized as he took in the features of her face. His mouth dropped open for the second time that day before his face broke into a wide smile.
"Alyss?" he asked excitedly a warm feeling flooding his chest at seeing his long lost friend again. He nearly knocked the poor servant over when he bounded towards her, leaving a confused and startled Horace in his wake.
"Will?" Alyss returned when she caught sight of him, her previously solemn features lighting up with a smile that was made almost radiant by the genuine joy in it. Already she was moving forward to meet him halfway in an embrace.
~x~X~x~
Arald was waiting just outside Douglass's receiving room with Sir Rodney: waiting for Sir David to arrive with the forester he had met. Arald had come a few minutes early—despite not knowing why he even bothered. If Baron Douglass stayed true to form, there would be a lengthy waiting period before they would be seen. He made no attempt to hide his snort of disgust at the thought.
"Could be different this time," Rodney said, correctly reading the reason behind Arald's mood. "Perhaps, since this is a matter of some urgency, he will see fit to deal with things more quickly."
Arald merely shook his head. It went without saying that he didn't have much faith that Douglass would suddenly put anything over the formality and the needless, self-important, games of power he seemed to favor so much.
"I wouldn't count on it," he muttered.
Then he brightened as he saw Sir David enter the room with a familiar figure behind him. Now that he thought it about though, he couldn't say he was really surprised. He rose to his feet to greet them.
"I might have known it would be you," Arald said, beaming at the hooded mercenary. "What with your habit of sticking your nose everywhere it doesn't belong. Went so far as to put it in Morgarath's lands did you?" He gripped Gilan's hand warmly in greeting before clapping him heartily on the shoulder.
The mercenary winced, only just managing not to stagger back a pace. "I suppose that's one way to put it," he said with a rueful smile, rolling his shoulder. "It's good to see you again, my lord," he bowed his head in respect.
"You know each other?" David asked surprised, his eyes narrowing.
"Ran into this rouge once on the road to Drayden Castle. He helped me repel a Wargal raiding party," Arald said.
David frowned but, before he could say anything further, Arald caught sight of the other hooded man who had been standing quietly behind and a little to the side of Gilan.
"And who is this?" he asked, already reaching out a hand in greeting, more than ready to extend an offer of friendship if he was with Gilan. As Arald clasped arms with him, he noted the man's firm grip, steely eyes, and steady bearing. He found he already approved of him. There was something familiar about him—almost like catching sight of an old friend after a long time away… Well, it was like that in a strange way that Arald couldn't really put his finger on…
"I'm called Halt," the man said simply.
"My mentor and a former Ranger," Gilan introduced further when it was obvious that Halt wasn't going to.
"That explains a lot," Arald said, his expression clearing with understanding.
"Indeed," Rodney agreed.
"But you said former Ranger." Arald glanced at Halt. "You wouldn't have happened to have been one of those who ran afoul of Morgarath during the early days of the war, would you?
Halt didn't answer, but his expression told Arald all he needed to know.
"Damnable business, all of it." Arald shook his head and then asked, "how is it that you came back? I assume you were banished from the country?"
Halt's tale, when he explained it, was an unusual one, but not entirely unexpected considering the circumstances of everything. Telling it and discussing the state of the kingdom and the stakes of their upcoming gambit passed the time quickly while they waited. They were interrupted when a servant finally entered to allow them admittance to their audience with Douglass.
Arald felt his expression darken a little again, but managed to clear it before they stepped through the room and into full view of Douglass's exalted presence. Arald supposed he was expected to be grateful that Douglass had even made the time to see them at all. After all, it wasn't like his fief was under imminent threat of attack or anything urgent like that. He shook his head; perhaps he was being a little too harsh. Douglass had guarded his fief and his people well over the years. In fact, aside from that tendency to be a little self-important, he was a good governor and administrator. He sighed in resignation.
Much to Arald's consternation, they spent even more time going through further unnecessary formalities before Douglass finally seemed ready to get down to business. He had just started when Lady Pauline entered the room.
"Sorry I'm late, my lord, I had a matter that I needed to attend to." She bowed her head respectfully before taking her position.
Douglass merely waved a dismissive hand in her general direction; the gesture plainly stating that he really didn't care if she was there or not. That did nothing to ease Arald's mood. He did notice, however, that the former Ranger seemed almost to jump when he heard her voice and had tried to see her as best as he could from his position towards the middle of their group. He didn't have a very good vantage point there, especially not when surrounded by a group of knights that were, for the most part, taller than him. Thus thwarted, he seemed to ease back into the shadow of his cowl and the shadows of the men around him. Arald had no idea how Rangers—or former Rangers—seemed to be able to nearly disappear on a whim like that.
His thoughts were distracted when Douglass turned to Gilan, regarding the hooded mercenary with a skepticism that was quickly, but rather unsuccessfully, masked.
"My man David says you were the one to bring us advance warning of Morgarath's Wargals," Douglass said emphatically. "And that you know a way to guide our troops through the forest to flank them."
"Yes, my lord," Gilan inclined his head in the most minimal movement that politeness allowed, but said nothing more than that—despite the fact the Baron was obviously waiting for some further verbal reply.
Receiving none, the Baron's eyebrows lowered. He studied mercenary more closely; his expression stating plainly that he didn't like what he saw. It seemed Gilan's borderline irreverent manner wasn't sitting well with him. Arald had to hide a smile.
"As a mere forester, perhaps you are not familiar with the more proper ways of courtly life, but it is considered very ill-mannered to wear a head covering in the presence of nobility," the Baron said condescendingly.
Gilan seemed to think about that for a second or two. "So it is, my lord," he agreed lightly, not making the slightest movement to lower his hood as the Baron had insinuated.
Douglass flushed angrily and opened his mouth to speak further but Sir David beat him to it, stepping forward to bring the attention onto him before things could get any more heated. He cleared his throat.
"Milord, my scouts have reported that the Wargal numbers inside our borders have increased substantially. I have no doubt that they will mount their attack soon—perhaps within a few days if we are not quick enough to subdue them."
Douglass frowned at this piece of news. "I see. And you still think that finding a path through the forest to ambush them before they attack is the best way to do that? You trust this man to help you?" Douglass asked then, gesturing at Gilan, his expression making no secret of his doubt.
"Entirely, milord," David said without hesitation. "I know he speaks the truth. I have full confidence in his abilities and the integrity of his intentions."
"I've had occasion to meet this man before," Arald added, stepping forward, "and can vouch for him also. What Sir David says is true."
"And I can vouch for him as well, milord," Lady Pauline said. "He's aided and provided valuable information to the Couriers, and subsequently the King himself, numerous times."
It was apparent that Douglass hadn't been expecting that—nor Sir David either, Arald thought as he glanced at his friend.
"It's just, I have a hard time bringing myself to believe that there is a path through those woodlands, and I believe much less that he can lead a party of our men through it," Douglass said finally.
"He tells me that he can and I believe him. He has even provided us with a chart of the woods," David added, unfurling said parchment and offering it to Douglass who hardly glanced at it before setting it aside.
"The enemy is already in your lands, and the proposed plan is the best way to combat it," David spoke again. "It is a risk, I'll grant that, but I believe that it is a risk well worth taking. If we succeed, the promised gain would serve not only this fief but the Kingdom itself."
Douglass swept his gaze across the room and saw that absolutely everyone agreed with David's proposition.
"Very well, David. I trust your judgment. If you truly think it wise to entrust the success of everything to this forester, then this plan has my approval," he said finally. "Heaven knows we need to find some way of stopping the Wargals before it's too late. I take it the sooner you leave, the better?" he asked.
Sir David nodded. "As you say, my lord."
Arald allowed himself a thin smile of success as they were dismissed from Douglass's receiving room. As one, their group moved out, heading to go and muster the garrison. They were making their way down a hallway when an older knight strode quickly around a blind corner to collide with Gilan.
The result was instantaneous. The mercenary had moved to get out of the way, far more alert than the old knight had been. He just managed to avoid the brunt of the man's impact. But that wasn't what made Arald inadvertently start to reach for his sword. Rather, it was the keyed up tension that filled the hallway and the just barely aborted movement of the mercenary's arm and sword hand.
Arald was a veteran of countless combats and combat situations. He had a sharp eye and was well practiced in swordsmanship. Therefore, he knew that, if the mercenary had completed the wickedly fast movement he'd started and actually had drawn his sword, the old knight would possibly have met his end without knowing what had hit him. The amount of tension and the reaction itself seemed overmuch for a simple mistake and accident. It was almost as if the mercenary expected to be ambushed at any time, or that he'd genuinely thought the old knight to be a threat or enemy for a moment. And it was that tension that had caused Arald to nearly react as well.
As it was, the old knight simply rebounded off the mercenary's shoulder and stood teetering and off-balance. He reached out for something to steady himself: the closest thing being the mercenary he'd tripped over. But the mercenary in question had already moved fluidly out of arms reach, leaving the old knight to find his balance on his own. He only just managed it.
"Apologies," the mercenary said quietly, mouth pulling into the semblance of a smile before continuing on his way, the snap of tension riding with him, leaving the now confused old knight behind.
"Better take more care to mind where you're going next time," Arald said, not unkindly, offering a steadying hand to the old knight. The man was looking dazedly after the mercenary but switched his focus to Arald when he spoke.
He stepped back, touching his hand to his forehead in a hasty salute. "Yes, milord, sorry, milord," he managed to say before bowing and heading off—no longer at the breakneck-pace he'd previously used.
Arald merely shook his head.
~x~X~x~
It was late that evening when the party led by Arald, Sir David, and the mercenaries stopped to make camp for the evening. They had made fairly good progress, considering how they hadn't been able to leave until later in the afternoon. At Arald's signal, everyone riding dismounted and set about their preparations. Arald glanced at Sir David. The man had been unusually quiet on the ride up, and Arald had gotten the distinct impression that something was amiss. Those suspicions seemed to be confirmed when he saw Sir David looking at him with faintly narrowed eyes and a pensive expression that seemed almost hurt in its regard.
"Is something the matter, old friend?" Arald asked.
Sir David shook his head as if in an attempt to brush off the question. But, even as he tried, the hurt look Arald initially noticed deepened and then turned into something more similar to determination. He stood straighter and met Arald's gaze.
"How long did you and Lady Pauline know that he was alive and well? And why… why didn't you tell me?" he asked then.
"How long did I know who was alive?" Arald asked, as puzzled by the question as he was by the accusation he could read in his friend's words.
David frowned and then gestured to where the hooded mercenary was assisting in setting up camp. "My son. If you knew he was alive, why didn't you tell me?"
Baron Arald froze.
"That's your son? That's him?" he asked incredulously.
At the same time, he realized why David had been upset and couldn't help but feel a little guilty about that and about not figuring it out himself.
"I had no idea…" Arald started and then trailed before trying to explain himself. "I suppose I should have made the connection sooner. I mean, unlike Will or John, Gilan is a fairly uncommon name. But when he helped rescue my and Pauline's party all those years ago, his look and bearing were so different that I didn't recognize him. He just seemed so much older than he was—and the Gilan I knew wasn't an archer. After all, I only ever saw him a handful of times when he was much younger and Pauline even less than that. I am sorry. I promise I would have told you had I known."
David relaxed, mollified by Arald's explanation and apology.
"No harm done," he said then, placing a hand on Arald's shoulder. His expression turned a touch rueful. "I suppose Gilan didn't make it easy for you by announcing who he was to all and sundry."
"That's true enough," Arald said, gratefully accepting the olive branch his friend was offering. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen him without his hood on." He cleared his throat, placing a hand on David's shoulder in turn. "All that aside, I'm glad to know he's alright."
"Me too," David said, though Arald picked up on a small note of uncertainty in his words.
~x~X~x~
Halt and Gilan were helping to set up camp. To their left and just out of earshot, Baron Arald and Sir David seemed locked in a fairly animated discussion, gesturing in his and Gilan's direction on more than one occasion. He had to admit that he was fairly curious to know what it was they were talking about but was distracted by a friendly shout from his apprentice.
"Lady Pauline!" Gilan called suddenly, a hand raised in greeting, startling Halt from his thoughts and focus in trying to fix one of the broken tent poles.
Halt looked up sharply to see the graceful white-clothed figure turn at the sound of Gilan's call and head towards them, a beautiful yet achingly familiar smile on her face. Halt felt something painful squeeze at his chest at the sight of it. She was still every bit as beautiful as he remembered her—still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His heart seemed to lodge itself in his throat with the anticipation of seeing her again and the cloying knowledge of just how much he had lost—how much they had lost.
"I didn't get the chance to say hello earlier," Gilan said cheerfully as she went to meet him.
It was true. Halt had regretted not being able to meet her—or even catch proper sight of her from where he'd been pressed into the middle of the group during the meeting with the Baron.
"Gilan," she greeted, embracing his former student, obviously pleased to see him. "I'm glad to see you are well. I take it you got my letter?" she asked.
Gilan nodded. "That's how we ended up finding out about this plan of attack."
Pauline raised her eyebrows at the specific pronoun.
Gilan reacted to her silent question as if he just realized what he said, but the glimmer in his eyes told another story entirely.
"By 'we' I meant my mentor and I," Gilan said, gesturing to Halt. "I don't think you've had the chance to meet properly yet, have you?" he asked smoothly. "Lady Pauline, I want you to meet Halt, my mentor, and a former Ranger." Then he paused as if suddenly remembering something important. "I forgot I promised Sir Rodney that I'd help him with the inventory, I hope you'll excuse me," he said with one of his more charming smiles—one that turned suspiciously knowing when he aimed it at Halt—before sauntering off to speak with Sir Rodney.
Which left both him and Pauline alone… Gilan was about as smooth as rough-cut stones, Halt thought shooting his former student a glare he couldn't see when his back was turned. He couldn't decide at that moment whether he wanted to thank him or put an arrow through him. But he didn't have much time to deliberate as Pauline spoke, reaching out a hand in greeting.
"I'm Pauline DuLacy. It's nice to meet you officially, Halt," she said, still smiling.
Halt reached for her hand with perhaps a little too much hastiness and let go just as quickly. He opened his mouth to speak but found that he couldn't. He coughed to clear his throat.
"A… pleasure," He finally managed to get out, cursing himself, and not for the first time, for being a stumbling social dolt. One would think that he would have learned and moved past this one lifetime ago… and one would just as immediately be wrong, he thought dully. Halt tried to say more but fumbled when he couldn't, for the life of him, think of what to say—or what he even could say.
Luckily Pauline came to his rescue, her blue eyes bright with amusement. "I think I've heard of you from Evanlyn. You were the Ranger that brought her safely home, and the one that Crowley left behind in Morgarath's lands, weren't you? I'm glad you made it back alright, and that you were able to help bring advanced warning."
Halt nodded once and cleared his throat again now he knew something he could say. "How is Evanlyn?" he managed to ask. When he and Gilan had said their final goodbyes to Will and Horace, he didn't remember seeing her with them or Lady Alyss.
"It's been difficult for her, but she's been settling in alright," Pauline assured him.
Halt found he felt a measure of relief. He'd grown to respect the plucky princess over the course of their travels together. "What about Crowley? I didn't see him around either."
"Last I knew, he went back to Morgarath's lands to look for you, and to get the information that he was initially sent to retrieve," Pauline said.
Halt frowned at that news. He knew Crowley was a capable Ranger and could handle himself, but all the same…
"I'm sure he'll be alright," Pauline said, reading his expression.
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Halt said.
"True," Pauline agreed. "You two seem to be pretty close."
"We had the same mentor," Halt said by way of explanation.
"Really?" Pauline asked, intrigued, looking at him with a new measure of respect. That line of questioning led to pleasant enough small talk between them. But none of it was on the subjects that Halt really wanted to broach with her… or could broach with her.
It wasn't long until she bid him farewell and set off to deal with her own tasks. And Halt was left with the dull thought that that really could have gone better.
He sighed and then looked around to see that Sir David had also taken his leave. Arald was the only one who remained in the clearing nearby. He was staring after Sir David's retreating back, looking entirely too perplexed.
"I can hardly believe it," he muttered softly to himself. He glanced to the side as Halt approached him, a rueful smile on his face.
"I still can't believe that your apprentice is actually Sir David's son—and that I didn't realize it until just now," Arald clarified in answer to Halt's questioning brow. At the same time, Arald had the look of a man who had just had a great weight lifted off his shoulders. He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. "I am so very glad to hear it, though. I had feared the worst for him."
"So you knew him before?" Halt asked.
"Sir David was one of my greatest friends and one of the King's best tacticians and supporters. I used to see him whenever I traveled to Highcliff and had occasion to see young Gilan a few times too. He was a bright cheerful lad. I remember that he had a rare talent with the sword and he was intelligent too. I had high hopes for him, as David did."
Halt heard a note of regret come into Arald's voice. At the same time, he realized that he now had the chance to find out the extent to everything that had gone on all those years ago when he'd been in Gallica: surviving on his own while all his friends and family remained forgotten.
"What happened?" he asked after a pause.
"Gilan never told you?" Arald asked, surprised.
Halt shook his head. "Not the why of it, at any rate."
Arald nodded thoughtfully, pausing a moment before he spoke. "I suppose, as his mentor, you have as much right to know as anyone. Besides, the longer you stay here in Highcliff, the more likely it is that you'll hear it anyway. Better you hear it from me than someone with a penchant for coloring facts," Arald said. He sighed and cleared his throat uncomfortably before he began. "Well, I suppose it started when he was a boy. You see, from the start, he seemed unable to conform entirely to a knight's sense of discipline. And, as he grew older, Sir David suspected, though he never actually caught him at it, that he often broke curfew and was probably the mastermind behind a few devious pranks and the like. David had hoped that, as Gilan grew, he would grow out of it. But it apparently only got worse, and the harmless pranks soon led to an incident that was a lot less harmless."
"How so?" Halt asked warily. He had the uncomfortable feeling he'd experienced a few times before when watching a disastrous accident unfold before his eyes; anticipating what would happen with a knowing dread, yet being entirely unable to prevent it.
"He broke curfew one night and, on top of that, he stole a senior officer's horse and went carousing around the town with some youths in the village. They got drunk and started behaving recklessly. Eventually, it led to the destruction of a wealthy merchant's home—they were messing around with fire, you see. The merchant lost everything and his pregnant wife got burned…badly." Arald took a breath and Halt found himself holding his unconsciously.
"She didn't make it and neither did the baby," Arald said quietly. "The merchant described Gilan to the knights that night when he told what happened and later positively identified Gilan as the ring leader, and the one who started the fire."
Halt nearly took an inadvertent step back as Arald said it. Gilan was directly responsible for the death of a woman and her unborn child? Halt felt his expression turn grim. Then he shook his head faintly as he puzzled over this for a moment… it didn't at all sound like Gilan. He had always been mischievous and maybe even a little reckless, but never so reckless to be careless with other people's lives. Then again, Halt remembered how disenchanted, disillusioned, and frustrated Gilan had become in that other time when it came to his training as a knight. He honestly didn't know how bad it could have gotten in this time without his being there to take the boy on as an apprentice Ranger. Perhaps it had been enough for him to get caught up with the wrong crowd, caught up enough to make a disastrous mistake. He frowned, knowing he likely didn't have the full picture, and knowing too that the story was probably only going to get worse from there.
"He was thrown in the dungeon while he waited for his final trial and while the Baron decided what to do with him," Arald continued. "He was found guilty. Baron Douglass and many of his senior staff thought that there was no excuse for such abhorrent behavior from one of their men at arms, cadet or no, and had him flogged… it was no simple reprimand either."
"I know," Halt said, feeling a cold stone seem to settle in his stomach. "I've seen his back."
Arad winced. Halt's frown deepened suddenly as he spoke again.
"I was under the impression that King Duncan didn't approve of methods like that."
"He doesn't," Arald agreed. "Neither do I, actually. But the Barons have the right to govern their fiefs and that includes the right to mete out punishment as they see fit—especially when it comes to their men at arms."
Halt nodded grudgingly, he knew it was true. At least, it had been true before Duncan had really stepped into his role as king in the other time. He remembered that when he'd first met Morgarath in that other time: the Baron had had the power and authority to authorize and deal out punishment like that—had even threatened to do so to some of his men at arms to get a rise out of him and Crowley.
"A good flogging never hurt anyone—certainly not the flogger," Halt remembered saying to Morgarath in counterpoint to the mind games the tyrant had been trying to play with Crowley. Those indifferent words he'd once spoken so blithely twisted into something cold and sickly bitter in his chest as he recalled them now. His stomach heaved. Halt knew that, if it was true, there could be no excuse for his former student's actions; but that didn't change the fact that Gilan had been a child. He looked back to Arald as the Baron continued speaking.
"Practices like that have been around for generations, as I'm sure you know. Maybe one day Duncan can officially ban them, but times are too tenuous now… they were even more so back then."
Halt easily caught the Arald's meaning. The last thing Duncan would do would be going around limiting the power of the nobility—no matter the reason. He couldn't afford to alienate any of his nobles and push them into Morgarath's camp. He shook his head. It was an ugly situation.
"What happened next?" Halt asked, feeling numb.
"Well, after that, Baron Douglass still didn't think that was enough. He wanted Gilan to be expelled from all his holdings. I had arrived a day after that display of corporal punishment, and David and I managed to talk Douglass into giving the boy a second chance. We pointed out again that Gilan hadn't deliberately started the fire, that it had been an accident. Besides that, the flogging was punishment enough. After we spoke to him, Douglass agreed to give the boy another chance—also a bit harsh for my tastes as it entailed being demoted to a garrison troop member for a twelvemonth and then being able to slowly earn his way back to knighthood—but Gilan refused to take it. He chose expulsion from Highcliff Fief instead.
"Douglass had given him a few days to heal before he would have to leave the fief, but he didn't take them. He left shortly after his final trial. Nobody knew what happened to him after that. He rode off alone into the woods and was never heard from again. The woods were not the safest place then or now. And he had left injured and, on top of that, had refused the supplies and money the Baron had offered him.
"All of us assumed the worst. And I had always blamed myself a little for it all. If I had arrived sooner, I might have been able to talk them out of the corporal punishment and the expulsion. I even sent some of my own men after him; I thought the least I could do would be to offer him a position in my retinue… I know that his actions caused a great deal of pain and the loss of two lives. But I also know it was never intentional; it was a drunken mistake, a youth's rebellious misstep that led to a horrible accident. Besides that, he'd served his sentence and that should have been the end of it. I figured he'd be worth the risk of a second chance. But my men never found him."
Halt nodded, digesting all this information.
"Thanks for trying to help him," he said finally, feeling gratitude towards his old friend for trying, even if he hadn't succeeded.
Arald inclined his head. "I'm just glad to know that he's alright and turned out better than alright in the end."
Arald took his leave to attend to something shortly after that. But Halt stayed where he was under the shadow of the tall trees for two reasons; one was that he wanted time to think, and the second was that he had become aware of another presence halfway through the Baron and his conversation. Sure enough.
"What was that about?" he heard Gilan ask causally from the shadowed woods to his left.
Halt sighed. "You know as well as I what that was about."
Gilan seemed unabashed. "True enough. It's going to take me a while to get used to you again; I keep forgetting that I can't get away with as much as I used to anymore," he added ruefully.
An uncomfortable silence seemed to tense the waiting air between them until Halt finally broke it.
"Are you… upset I know?" Halt asked, turning around to face his former apprentice.
The reason he hadn't asked Gilan about it directly was because he knew it pained him. His plan had been to wait until his former apprentice was ready to tell him himself. In fact, he knew he probably should have done that. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him when Arald had presented the opening. He genuinely hadn't wanted to hurt the young man by being insensitive and hoped that wasn't the case.
There was another moment of tense silence as Gilan considered the question.
"No," he said finally, shrugging. "I would have been surprised if you hadn't tried to find out what happened." His eyes narrowed as he met Halt's dark gaze. "The real question is: are you upset?" His voice softened until it was barely over a whisper, "or, better put, disappointed?"
It was Halt's turn to be silent as he considered, his own dark eyes searching Gilan's lighter ones.
"Is it true?" he asked finally.
"And if it is?"
Though the words were quiet, Halt thought he could detect a decisive note of almost contemptuous challenge in them, and in Gilan's manner. But Halt ignored it, knowing it instantly for what it was. It was nothing more than a sham that his former apprentice was using as a shield. Halt had seen the old pain that lurked behind the wall of dull resignation and quiet anger he'd seen in his former student's eyes.
"If anything, I'm sorry… sorry that it all happened," Halt told him honestly then, sensing that this was what the young man really wanted to know. "More importantly, it's in the past. I know who and what you are now. That's more important."
Gilan seemed completely surprised by that answer, the challenge and defensiveness that had been making his posture and expression hard had vanished entirely. He looked gratefully at his old mentor before his expression fell.
"I'm sorry," he said softly after a pause.
For a moment, Halt didn't know whether he was apologizing for that long-ago crime or for the confrontational attitude that had come over him. He studied Gilan for a moment and then decided on the second. So thinking, he brushed the apology aside.
Gilan sank down onto a nearby fallen log and Halt moved to sit next to him. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then, finally, Halt spoke.
"Will you tell me what happened? I'd like to know the truth." Because now Halt was certain there was far more to the story than he knew. His former student's demeanor and actions now didn't seem to match the story Halt had gotten, didn't correspond to how he knew Gilan would be acting if it was the whole truth.
Gilan gave him a sidelong glance. Though a wry smile touched his lips, it didn't reach his eyes. "It's not a story I particularly like to tell."
No, Halt imagined not. But he also heard in his onetime apprentice's tone and manner what it was that he hadn't said aloud: that he had never really told anyone before. That knowledge was a painful one and again Halt had to shove down that feeling of failure and regret. He might not have been there for his apprentice then, but he was now. His neutral expression, however, gave none of those thoughts away.
"Then don't," Halt shrugged then added more quietly. "But burying things doesn't help you heal from them, Gil." And though he didn't say it aloud, he was certain that Gilan could, just as Halt had earlier, hear what it was that hadn't been said aloud: that he was there for him, and wanted to help if he could.
Gilan shifted uneasily, expression tight, body tenser than he'd been before. He seemed, in that moment, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to meet Halt's gaze. Then his shoulders slumped in something akin to resignation as he came to a decision and nodded. He took an unsteady breath.
"Alright… Halt."
A/N: Thanks for reading! As always I really appreciate/love reviews/feedback if you have the time or inclination. XD constructive criticism is always helpful and valued too. (If you hated something or think I could improve don't hesitate to say.)
Phew, that was a lot to go through all at once... but I guess that's the hazards of having so many characters in one place that need to interact. I just hope it wasn't too much all at once... or that it was boring cause of it just being mainly dialogue...
Also, for those disappointed that Will and Horace aren't coming along, don't be too disappointed, I promise I have a plan for them *insert mildly evil smile* And finally some of the answers about Gilan's past. Was it what you expected? Did Gilan do it? XD Next chapter will reveal the answer to that/the whole story along with a few other much-needed answers/explanations (as to the how, why, and logistics of some things) cause I'm sure this chapter left a lot of those questions. But don't worry I can explain, I promise! I also am really going to try to get it done sooner than usual to make up a little for all my delays. I am trying my best not to drag it out too long... It's just that everything exploded into something a lot bigger than I anticipated. It'll be a little easier this time though since I was able to get started on the next chapter early while I was still pouting over, and lamenting the loss of, this one after the computer crash. X)
I wish you all the very best! Until next time!