It had been a few years since Crowley became the Ranger Commandant. A few years full of paperwork, dealing with the war's aftermath and endless efforts to track down Morgarath or at least to find out what exactly was he doing up in the mountains.
With the first apprentices graduating and taking over their own fiefs, and some older Rangers returning after the war (as they had been away and the message that the Ranger Corps was reinstated hadn't reached them before the war), Crowley had more Rangers to split the job up to. Farrel's leg also healed nicely and he was currently stationed in Whitby. After his injury, he had been looking after Aspienne fief for a while to get used to being back in work and last year, he was deemed well enough to take on a more important fief such as Whitby.
What had to be said, it was just a few months since Berrigan lost his leg in a Skandian raid. Just like Farrel, he was recovering at Castle Araluen and helped Crowley with the paperwork, but they both knew that he would never be able to be a Ranger again. So far, Crowley wanted Berrigan to feel useful as he was down from the loss of his leg. And, of course, he intended to keep him there with him until the former Ranger knew what to do with his life next.
What surprised Crowley was that Halt took on an apprentice. Gilan, the Caraway Battlemaster's son. The boy was doing well in his training. Crowley had been skeptical at first about letting the boy continue his swordsmanship training, as it was an atypical weapon for a Ranger, but he was eventually convinced by Farrel.
The Ranger had arrived to report to him about some bandit group he had taken care of, and he remembered their dialogue quite well.
"You should let the boy keep his sword," Farrel said, tapping the edge of his battleaxe. "It can come in handy one day. And, of course, who would expect a Ranger to carry a sword? It will do for a perfect element of surprise."
Crowley looked up from his mug of tea.
"Says the man with the battleaxe," he smiled, amused. "I can let him keep it and see where it goes."
Of course, the years had been filled in by action as Crowley was the Ranger stationed at Araluen fief, and also endless diplomatic meetings. His mastery of silent movement had come in handy so many times, as people never noticed him standing there for at least a few minutes, and during that time, Crowley had so many opportunities to listen in on such interesting things.
He hadn't forgotten his suspicions about Halt being the Hibernian prince, and he was almost about to let them go, until one day, he was summoned to King Duncan's office.
That day started out nicely. Berrigan came to the office to talk to him. He wasn't in his (now usual) gloomy mood, instead, he was smiling brightly, holding up a familiar item. Crowley recognized it as his jongleur cloak.
"Berrigan! Nice to see you without your gloomy decor," he winked at his fellow Ranger. Berrigan didn't share his amusement. Instead, he sat down on the chair, staring him right into the eye.
"Crowley, I need to talk to you," he said in a serious tone.
The Ranger Commandant pushed his paperwork away. "So I figured."
Berrigan showed him the jongleur cloak.
"I don't want to stay holed up here the whole rest of my life, Crowley. It's time for me to move on."
The red-haired Ranger nodded. He didn't expect Berrigan, a Ranger who loved to sing and dance, and valued freedom above all, to stay surrounded by the castle's walls, however beautiful they were.
"Do you remember this?" Berrigan asked, nodding towards the colourful cloak. Crowley nodded. Why, of course he did.
A few years ago, on their journey to take down Morgarath and free Prince Duncan and King Oswald, they were once looking for Ranger Samdash in Eagleton fief. And since the locals had been unhelpful, Berrigan decided to try a different approach. People were trusting towards jongleurs and were able to tell them the darkest secrets.
"The locals aren't telling us something," Crowley said that evening when they all gathered around the fire. The other Rangers nodded, agreeing with him. They had all noticed how people fell silent every time someone even mentioned Ranger Samdash.
Berrigan shrugged.
"Maybe they just need someone who they can trust," he said, winking at his fellow Rangers. He went to the horses and returned with an unfamiliar colourful object that he held up proudly.
"They might trust a jongleur coming to their village," he said cheerfully, showing the cloak to the others. "When I was younger and had to go on one of my first big missions, I had to travel in disguise. Nicholl got me this superb cloak."
The Rangers looked at each other but no one denied that people were friendly towards jongleurs and could very well tell Berrigan just where Samdash was. Or went.
In the end, it didn't work, of course. But it was a great idea and Crowley knew that Berrigan enjoyed his days in this disguise. The redhead clasped hands.
"Very well, Berrigan. I won't keep you here by force," he said, noticing a hint of appreciation in the other Ranger's eyes.
"Thank you, Crowley. Can I keep Nudge?" he asked, referring to his mare. She was stabled with Cropper these days, and she was old enough to retire.
Crowley didn't shake his head, but he also didn't nod.
"I don't know about that, Berrigan. You can write a letter to Bob, if you want an answer," Crowley answered. He wasn't an expert on Ranger horses, gods no, but he knew that Bob sometimes kept older horses to join in the breeding program, and he knew that the breeder would know if he needed Nudge much more than he did.
Berrigan nodded his head slightly. "Thank you, Crowley. For everything." He was almost about to leave when the Commandant spoke up again.
"Berrigan... Maybe you'd like to consider working for the Corps sometimes. As an undercover agent," he suggested. He knew very well it could be too painful for Berrigan to return to partial service immediately.
The one-legged Ranger stopped in the door. His fingers clenched around the cloak and he said quietly: "I'll think about it."
Crowley nodded, not realizing that at the moment, Berrigan couldn't see him. He knew that the former Ranger would return and help him with more paperwork.
He didn't stick around for Berrigan to come back, though. A servant knocked on the door.
"His Majesty King Duncan would like to see you," the servant said and stood between the door proudly.
Crowley sighed and massaged his temples. He had just been dealing with a difficult report and didn't need any distractions.
"When?" he asked through gritted teeth. The servant didn't move a muscle as he replied: "Right now, sir."
Crowley sighed. He couldn't ignore a direct order from the King, so he put the ink and quill away and followed the servant to the King's office.
"Ranger Crowley, Your Majesty," Lord Anthony announced Crowley's presence and left the door open for him.
Once seated in the office, with a mug of steaming hot coffee, Crowley waited impatiently (not letting the King know of his impatience, of course) for the King to tell him why he had summoned him.
"Crowley, I will be going to the coronation of Prince Ferris O'Carrick of Hibernia. I want you to accompany me as the head of security," he said, watching as the Ranger nodded and asked for some more details. They'd be leaving in two days, a small diplomatic party with ten men as the King's guards. Crowley had been allowed to select three archers that would be under his command, the others were knights hardened in battle with years of experience. The entire journey would take two weeks and Crowley was sure he could leave the important matters in Berrigan's hands. And if trouble arose in Araluen fief, Berwick was there to help as he retired a year ago. He was still capable and could take care of the fief until Crowley returned.
Even though this journey meant no holidays for Crowley, he was enjoying that he could go somewhere that wasn't Castle Araluen. Gods, he was stuck in that building for months! He craved freedom that was taken from him the moment he became the Commandant. And this journey provided him with some.
He could relax on the way to Hibernia a bit since the King's party was modest and didn't attract a lot of attention, but once in Hibernia, he became alert again. This was another country, and even though Araluen was on friendly terms with Hibernia, it was better to be safe than sorry. Some of the knights complained that they couldn't understand locals very well, but Crowley had no problems. Granted, he'd admit that he had trouble understanding Halt sometimes, but with him, he grew accustomed to the thick Hibernian accent. Now he was enormously glad that his best friend was originally from Hibernia.
Crowley never forgot his suspicions about Halt being the Prince of Clonmel. In his research a few years ago, he found out that Halt and Ferris were twins. Crowley knew twins who looked different, but also twins that looked exactly the same. Yet, this knowledge could never prepare him for the shock that came when they arrived to Dun Kilty (the royal castle sure was fancy but had nothing against castle Araluen) and first saw the newly crowned King of Clonmel.
He looked exactly like Halt. Wait, no, not exactly, Crowley thought as he studied him a bit. Only King Duncan and him were allowed to see the young King, and the Ranger had a chance to subtly study him while also keeping an eye out for any sign of danger.
Prince Ferris was very similar to Halt, but there were subtle differences between them. First, Ferris probably wasn't a big fan of sports. He liked to stay in the city in his luxurious castle and eat fine food. As a result, his tummy was growing. Second difference Crowley noticed were his eyes. While Halt's eyes were dark and he never backed down, Ferris was his complete opposite. His willpower was weak. He'd look away in three seconds if he was met with the Ranger's curious gaze.
During the short audience with the King, Crowley noticed the change in Duncan's expression. He sighed inwardly. He knew that the King wasn't stupid. He was a smart, observant man and he definitely must've noticed how similar King Ferris and Ranger Halt were.
He wasn't mistaken. As soon as they left, King Duncan motioned Crowley to come with him to his room. There, he sat on the bed, his eyes wide.
"Crowley, is Halt…?" he left the question hang in the air, too surprised to actually say it. The Ranger Commandant shrugged.
"A few years ago, I found a funeral invitation for Prince Halt and did my research. I have a strong suspicion that Halt is, in fact, the rightful heir to the Hibernian throne, but he denied all of it when I asked," he explained, watching as Duncan furrowed his brows.
"You knew and didn't tell me?" he asked in an accusing tone. Crowley looked him right in the eye.
"Your Majesty, I had a strong suspicion, but I have no proof. Of course, if Halt admitted to it, I would have told you, but I decided to let it go," he shrugged as King Duncan looked away. The noble sighed.
"Crowley, if we are really hiding a fugitive prince… Do you realize what consequences it would have if someone knew?" he said finally. The consequences could be catastrophic, they both knew. Yet Crowley knew that Halt didn't like talking about his past. He would change the topic or keep silent. The red-haired Ranger felt - no, he knew - that something terrible must've happened to Halt to make him flee Hibernia. He saw how his fellow Ranger was happy in Araluen. And he had to defend him.
"Your Majesty, with all due respect, we have no proof of Halt being the dead Hibernian prince-" he started but then the door opened. A young woman with dark brown hair had come in. She must've been around seventeen or so years old. She was looking at them with curiosity in her eyes and definitely didn't mind that she just went in on a private meeting.
"Are you talking about Halt?" she asked, her brown eyes widening in curiosity. King Duncan raised an eyebrow.
"And you are?" he prompted her. The girl smiled brightly.
"Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Caitlyn O'Carrick, and you are?" She made a slight bow.
Crowley looked at Duncan and both men introduced themselves.
"So you are the princess?" Duncan asked. Caitlyn nodded. Crowley looked around. He found it weird that the Princess had no guards with her. Did they feel so safe inside the castle with hundreds of visitors?
He soon came to know that the Princess was just a big ray of sunshine.
"Yes," she smiled in response to Duncan's question. "I'm so sorry about eavesdropping, but I was walking around and thought I heard you mention my brother. Is he alive? I know he is. One day, his horse Declan disappeared from the stable," she apologized and told the story. Crowley furrowed his brows. He knew Declan. He had been Halt's horse before he got Abelard. That wasn't a coincidence. He was sure now that Halt was a fugitive prince. On one hand, he felt happy. Happy that Halt wanted to go to Araluen and become a Ranger, but on the other hand, he was confused. Why would Halt give up a life of luxury? Crowley knew that Halt had a high disregard for authorities as shown with Morgarath.
Crowley contemplated whether to tell the Princess the truth. Finally, seeing her big hopeful expression, he looked at the door, making sure they were still closed and said in a low voice: "Halt is alive. He's in Araluen and he's happy."
He saw how the girl beamed and almost jumped around his neck to hug him while Duncan crossed his arms.
"Crowley, a minute ago you said that you had no proof," he reminded the Ranger and Crowley smiled.
"I didn't, Your Majesty. But now I have. Before he got his Ranger horse, Halt had a Hibernian horse called Declan," he explained. Hearing a sniffing noise, both men turned to Caitlyn. She was crying, a big smile on her face, so they assumed those were happy tears.
"Are you alright, Princess Caitlyn?" Duncan asked, a hint of worry in his voice. Who knew what would happen if some guards came in and found the Princess crying?
She wiped off her tears. "I am, I am just so happy that my brother is alive."
Caitlyn spent some time asking the men questions about Halt's life in Araluen, but soon, it was time for her to leave to attend to some royal duties.
She was smiling, thanking Crowley and King Duncan every last minute before she stopped and checked if the corridor was deserted. She closed the door, making both men confused.
Caitlyn bent down so that she was at their eye level, and said, her tone serious: "I'm glad that Halt is alive and well in Araluen. And that you might want him to come back home." Duncan narrowed his eyes, how did she know what he was thinking about? His family should know what happened to him, right?
"But I beg you. Never, ever let Halt return back here."
At this, Crowley's eyes widened. Halt's own sister… she didn't want him there? Tilting his head in confusion, he asked: "Why not?"
Caitlyn almost started crying at that point. A moment she had spent years trying to forget. The girl took a deep breath to keep herself calm, and whispered: "Because it was Ferris who tried to kill him."
The Princess stood up, her hands shaking a bit, but she managed a bow with polite: "Have a good night." She left into the depths of the castle, leaving Crowley and Duncan completely dumbfounded.
As King Duncan's party left Dun Kilty the next day, Crowley didn't even look at King Ferris. He didn't deserve people worshipping him. Celebrating him. He was a cold-blooded traitor who wouldn't hesitate to kill his own brother to get his throne.
As they left and the Ranger never looked back, he made his decision. He'd guard Halt's secret with his life, and he would do it the best by forgetting all about it. Only then could he protect Halt from his past.