Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, made possible by the Ranger's Apprentice by John Flanagan. I have only borrowed his creation and I make no money. For this story I have used several other Rangers from the books, though I've also added my own. I do this only in the hope to entertain…. Author's Note: No harm shall come to the characters that can't be fixed with enough coffee…

Chapter 16

Getting back to the camp Will found he couldn't be happier, not only had he and Halt come upon the tracks of a large buck, but when they got back to the Gathering grounds they found the other had also had luck. Their evening meal which might have been sparse if tolerable had been supplemented by trout, fowl and some more rabbit that had been caught. When fifty Rangers were gathered in one spot, as well as a handful of apprentices, huge quantities of food were needed. Fortunately though, over half of those fifty were quite skilled in obtaining that food, while the rest were at least good enough to generally not starve.

Rabbit roasted on a spit, potatoes baked in the hot coals as well as a salad of wild greens and hot griddle cakes was a meal Will did not turn up his nose at. With a fair sized bit of trout added for good measure, one that Crowley had prepared with lemon and salt, baked in the coals.

Patting his stomach he leaned partially back where he sat, Halt and Crowley were eating with healthy appetites though he noticed Gilan hadn't taken a lot, and was eating at a much more sedate pace. Even more strange, and something that peaked Will's curiosity was the fact that as he ate, Gilan glanced at Halt, then back to his food before he took another few bites.

"That was really good," he beamed as he wiped his hands absently on the grass. "It always seems to taste a lot better like this, doesn't it?"

"The company does always seem to add something to the food," Crowley grinned, tossing some fish bones into the fire. "Don't you think so Halt?"

"I think that the present company should be quiet and let a man have his dinner in peace," the salt and pepper haired Ranger grunted.

"Gil?" Will turned his eyes to his friend. "Don't you think it's better this way?"

"Much better than always eating alone," Gilan shrugged. "That's for certain."

"Aren't you hungry?" Will glanced at his bowl. He really hadn't had all that much and still seemed to have finished.

"I've done nothing all day, suppose I'm perhaps not," Gilan frowned. "Just sitting around really isn't any way to build up an appetite. Do you want it?" he knew how much Will could eat when the youngest Ranger felt like it. Certainly more than Gilan usually had, and he couldn't say he was hungry. He figured it really had to do with doing nothing physical at all during the day.

"Well, if you're sure?" Will hesitated, giving the food a longing look, but trying to be mature and not jumping at the chance for more of the excellent food.

"Go ahead," Gilan slipped the bowl over to him. "I had probably better save some room for the feast tomorrow," he added with something of a self conscious shrug towards Halt. His old mentor scratched his chin thoughtfully but nodded slowly.

"Suppose you had better," he noted, he was aware how a day of full physical activity left you more hungry than a day just sitting around did. Even so, it worried him when Gilan wasn't eating as he should. It worried him because while Gilan was one of the most competent men he knew, he, like all others, had his flaws.

There had been a time when he was still growing, when he had felt bothered by it. Something Halt had been unable to relate to, or even recognize. As it turned out, it's not always good for a growing and impressionable boy to be constantly teased for the rapid rate at which he's gaining height. Especially not with a good dose of rather mean critique throw in by those who find themselves annoyed at being shorter. Jealousy tended to be a big problem, even amongst adults.

Many thought the Rangers practiced Witchcraft, with their cloaks that made them vanish from sight and the way they seemed to shoot their bows impossibly fast. That they used a cleverly designed pattern on their cloaks, to blend in with their surroundings, and simply practiced until they were fast did not seem to occur to many.

Even amongst the other Rangers it turned out Gilan was an oddity. Most Rangers were short, and he was already as an apprentice taller than most. His skill with the sword set him even further apart, and this had at one point escalated to Gilan thinking he could slow down his growing if he ate less.

Once it was discovered, he had listened to them, and to Halt's knowledge he had never tried anything like it again. Not consciously, but he sometimes found it hard to judge how much would be a normal portion still. Particularly when he was ill and lost his appetite, he knew he needed to eat, and he knew he tended to eat too little. It made him self-conscious and uncertain.

Halt would usually just nudge him gently, drop what he knew was a good seized portion in his bowl, and Gilan would nod with that gentle smile of his. Appreciative that Halt noticed and cared, though he said nothing. It had never been a real problem, but at the same time Halt wasn't sure if it was something Will would understand. Which was the reason why he said nothing now. If Will started asking questions about it, Gilan would only become more self-conscious about it. He'd have a quiet word with him about it later, and that should be all that was needed.

"You know," Crowley started as he was cleaning out his own bowl with a bit of bread. "I always found that paperwork brings on a real appetite."

"You tend to think breathing brings out an appetite," Halt snorted, though he was grateful to his friend. It was strange in a way how close the two of them were, Halt was rather silent and on the annoyed grouchy side. Crowley was open and cheerful, friendly if he showed his red haired temperament at times. He might flare up where Halt had a slow but steady burning anger that allowed him to direct it towards those he felt deserved it. In this, and several other aspects they really did compliment each other and the things they had been through together were sometimes more exciting than he cared to admit.

He wondered sometimes if he would have been able to handle Gilan if it hadn't been for his experience with Crowley. Will was eager, inquisitive and cheerful, he leapt at every chance to learn and discover something. It was why he did not wait for Halt to tell him about the leather cuff that would protect his wrist from the bowstring, together with a multitude of similar thing.

In comparison, Gilan had always waited for Halt to instruct him, and he had felt like a cad tricking him with the code word for his horse. Will had wanted to mount as soon as he was given the horse in hand, Gilan had still had his battleschool training of waiting for full instructions. Yet it was akin to an intuition ceremony, and if he had spared Gilan the experience, he might not have been so easily accepted by the other Rangers. Knowing how he would stand out with his sword and his upbringing, this was not something Halt could do.

Instead he and Old Bob had subtly goaded the boy until he mounted, and the hurt look on Gilan's face as he started back to his feet really tore at Halt. He had trusted Halt, and then he thought it had been nothing but a source of amusement for the Ranger.

At least the boy had allowed him to explain, and had seen the truth in what Halt told him. It was something that just had to be done.

With Gilan you never knew what to expect, the pike he had slipped into their water barrel only being one example. Will was a bit calmer in many ways, not too much, but calmer just the same. He did not go out of his way to find trouble the way Halt was willing to swear Gilan had done.

He recalled so well the first day Will came to his cabin to start his apprenticeship. He had never told the boy, but the reports he had been reading was what Crowley had sent him. Gilan had been in some trouble, and it had been all Halt could do to focus on his new apprentice. He had wanted nothing more but to saddle Abelard and ride off to get Gilan.

Letting them go out on their own, both of them, had been some of the hardest things he had ever done in his life. That more than anything was probably why he did not even entertain the idea of taking another apprentice. It was too hard knowing they were in trouble, even hurt, when you knew there was nothing you could do about it. Going to help Will, and knowing he would not be able to do anything for Gilan while he did so.

"Halt?" Will's voice brough through his rivière and he frowned. "Want me to take care of that?" Will nodded to his bowl, already holding the three other ones.

"You did that before, Crowley can do it," Halt shrugged, meeting the eye of his old friend.

"Why me, why not Gilan?" Crowley laughed, though he instantly took the bowls from Will and dropped them in the pot, so he could clean it all at the same time.

"Because he'd probably fall into the creek and get himself drowned," Halt shrugged. "You doing it wouldn't be much of a loss."

"I'd believe that, if not for the fact you know you'd get another commandant, and probably one you can't order around," Crowley laughed. He was still happy enough to take care of it, leaving Halt a few moments with both his apprentices.

Halt watched him go, shaking his head, "sometimes I wonder why I put up with him…"

Will grinned at that, knowing from the stories he had heard that 'putting up with him,' was a far cry from what Halt did. He didn't just tolerated Crowley's company, they were close friends who counted on each other more than anything else.

"Because compared to us, you think even he's easier to deal with," Gilan declared, grinning as he said it.

"Compared to you two, a troll is easier to deal with," Halt scowled as he leaned back. With a full belly, a warm fire in front of him and both his apprentices where he could keep an eye on them he was quite content. If he could only count on them staying out of trouble for a night he would be able to get some really needed and uninterrupted sleep.

Looking at them, one beaming and one more with a faint smile on his face he contemplated whether it would be deemed inappropriate to put thumb-cuffs on them or not. It probably would be considered to be on the cruel side to do it to someone who was injured, but it should have the advantage that they stayed out of trouble for one night.

Then again, knowing the two of them as he knew, they would still manage to find some way to do it.

Sighing he gave up the idea, it was no use, he was stuck with them and their idiotic ideas, reckless behavior, and the damned way he never could stop worrying about them.

At least now, for another hour or so he had them both right in front of him and was able to keep an eye on them, and whoever or whatever tried to hurt either one of them would find out what Halt was like to deal with when he was truly mad.

TBC

The Caffeine addicted Cricket wants to thank all who's read and reviewed...