There was a knock on the door and a voice from inside answered 'come in'. Crowley opened the heavy wooden door and walked into the King's office, now occupied by the Prince Regent, Prince Duncan.

Duncan looked up at him from the paper he was studying and gestured to a chair on the other side of the heavy desk. As Crowley walked across the room he quickly assessed it; most of the furniture were heavy and solid looking pieces that looked like they could stop just about any weapon a person could carry. The large desk would certainly be an effective barrier should be door be breached by an attacker and give the person behind it time to reach his own weapon. Duncan in his turn was studying the Ranger Commandant. He wasn't surprised to see Crowley cast a casual glance around the office and felt pretty sure there was nothing casual about it. He had found that was seldom the case with the Rangers. He continued to study him as he sat down in the proffered chair and looked at Duncan.

"Your highness," Crowley said respectfully, as way of greeting.

For a moment Duncan hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should refer to Crowley with his new title or not, but indecision wasn't fit for a ruler, so he made his decision. "Commandant. Please tell me how the work is going on getting the Ranger Corps back on its feet." Duncan was only all too aware that the Corps currently only held about a fourth of its previous strength, and he hoped Crowley would be able to quickly change that.

Crowley seemed to think it over for a moment while he collected his thoughts. "Your highness, while we both wish for the Corps to be back to its full strength of fifty, it is not likely to be happening any time soon. We are currently a dozen Rangers and while we have already started our efforts to contact those Rangers that Morgarath got banned to invite them back, it will take time, and many might not even want to return."

Duncan frowned. "Not even now we know the charges were fake and they will be given a full pardon and reinstatement?" Duncan had no doubt that every one of those charged were purely trumped up by Morgarath and his cronies and he was ready to pardon every Ranger on the spot. He had even said as much to Crowley and his father had agreed, though he had cautioned them and said they might still want to investigate the matter. If for nothing else then simply to find out who were in league with Morgarath.

Crowley nodded with a serious expression. "Yes. You must understand that it has been quite an insult to them to be charged with those crimes and have their oakleaves taken from them. A Ranger spends five years perfecting his craft before he can call himself King's Ranger. It takes a lot of skill and dedication. To simply be discarded the way many of them were will undoubtedly have left many angry and disillusioned. And while I do not doubt that some will return I also don't doubt that all will."

Duncan took that information in trying to imagine what it would be like to proudly serve your country and your king and then be sent away. And realised it probably felt a lot like when he was sent away from Castle Araluen, only worse. At least he hadn't been banned from the country and sent away in disgrace. These men had. And if they had decided they no longer wanted anything to do with Araluen he could hardly blame them.

Crowley continued. "Of course, we also know that some have died. We are not sure how many may have died, but there will be some besides Truscott."

Duncan frowned. "Who is Truscott?"

"He was the Ranger in Eisel Fief. Was murdered just before we reached that fief to recruit him."

"Ah. I see." Duncan didn't really know what to say. He realised that if it hadn't been for Crowley's and Halt's interference and quick acting the last Rangers could easily all have been killed or driven from the country and then he and his father would be death while Morgarath would be ruling the country. He pushed the thought aside. He needed to focus on the matter at hand. "But you think some will return?"

Crowley nodded. "Yes."

"How many?"

Crowley hesitated. This was the hard part. "I don't know. And I don't want to try and put a number on it either. If we are lucky most will return, but it might only be a few. Most have been banned, but some left of their own accord when Nicholl was charged with crimes against the crown. They might return once they hear his name has been cleared or they might not. It is really impossible to tell. Even Pritchard doesn't want to make any hard guesses on who or how many might return, and he know these Rangers better than I do." He shook his head. "There's just too many variables to say. And of course, there's also the issue of getting into contact with them all; they have been scattered all over the world and we might have trouble getting word to many of them."

Duncan nodded his understanding. While he wanted the Ranger Corps back to full strength as soon as possible he also realised he would simply have to make do with what he had and the same held true for Crowley, who was the one who had to organise the Rangers.

"What about the Rangers that was appointed in their places?"

Crowley couldn't keep a small snort of disgust back. "Rangers? They are not Rangers, your highness. They have bought their oakleaves, not earned them, and from I've seen they basically have no skill. Some of them can barely shoot a bow or ride a horse." Again he shook his head. "No, they don't deserve to be called Rangers."

"So there's no one there who could fulfil the position?" Even though Crowley had made it perfectly clear what he thought of these replacement Rangers, Duncan needed to be absolutely sure Crowley wasn't simply dismissing them, because he didn't personally like them.

"I seriously doubt it, your highness. I'd be willing to test them, but do remember that we first need to figure out if they are behind Morgarath or not. If they are not loyal to the crown then it doesn't matter how skillful they may be; they won't be Rangers."

Duncan nodded. "I trust you are already looking into that."

Crowley returned the nod. "Yes. Though it is slow going. I can't say that Stilson was the most organised type, so just sorting through the papers and files in the office will take some time."

"He can't help you out?" Duncan inquired.

"He could, but he won't. I've asked and he flat out refused to help or answer my questions."

"Maybe he needs more time to cool down?" Duncan didn't want to loose another Ranger and since the others didn't seem to believe he had been disloyal to the crown he hoped Stilson would come around and accept Crowley as Commandant.

Crowley shook his head. "Too late for that. He already crossed the line with his flat out refusal to follow your order to follow my orders. I've taken his oakleaf."

Duncan sat back in his chair. He hadn't been expecting that. "You don't think that was premature? You said yourself you didn't think he was disloyal to the crown and being demoted did undoubtedly sting."

But Crowley was shaking his head. "He got a day to cool down and think things over. And besides I cannot use a Ranger in the Corps, who will refuse my orders and work against me. He might not be one of Morgarath's toadies, but he certainly fell for his charade and did whatever Morgarath wanted him to.

"Whether or not Stilson have committed a crime against the crown remains to be seen, but he won't be a Ranger any more. The way he is acting he would do more damage than good in the Corps."

Duncan mulled those words over. He trusted Crowley's judgement and if Crowley thought it was best to dismiss Stilson altogether then he would stand by him in that decision, but that didn't mean he had to agree. "You don't think he might do something rash and lash out at you?"

Crowley smiled tightly. "Let him try."

Duncan realised Crowley did indeed think Stilson might do something rash and was even looking forward to it. It became clear to him that there was no love lost between them. Duncan just hoped Stilson wouldn't get the better of Crowley; he really needed the new Commandant if the reformation of the Corps was to be successful. "I'm going to trust that you know what you are doing and have matters well in hand."

"Thank you, your highness," Crowley said with a nod.

"All right, let's leave this subject for a while and move on to the next. As it turns out there are quite a lot to consider when ruling a country."

"Of course. Whatever you wish." Crowley sat comfortably, ready to discuss whatever else was on the young regent's mind, before he would return to those stacks of paper in his new office.

§

As it turned out there was a lot Prince Duncan wanted to discuss with Crowley and get his opinion on. One thing that had him concerned was getting all the evidence against Morgarath lined up so he could be tried and convicted before the council of barons. Neither of them were interested in Morgarath worming his way out of the treason he had committed, so they needed to make sure their evidence were watertight. Of course, the fact that he had retreated to his castle when accused at the tournament didn't speak in Morgarath's favour and some of the barons, who had previously held Morgarath in high regard were now a lot more sceptical. It helped that the King himself had spoken out against Morgarath and right now he was their best witness against Morgarath. Morgarath would be interested in drawing things out in the hopes that King Oswald would die in the meantime.

It was a frustrating subject and Crowley eventually suggested they discuss the other matters at hand and leave that one for later.

By the time Duncan finally gave him leave he had been in the office for almost four hours and his head felt like it had been pounded with a meat hammer and then put through a wringer. I hope this isn't how it's going to be all the time as the Commandant, Crowley thought.

He walked back to his own office where Pritchard was dutifully sorting through the stacks. He looked up as Crowley entered.

"Took you longer than I expected. I was beginning to think Stilson might have gotten to you."

Crowley shook his head. "I now know why you didn't want to be in charge. My head feels like it's overflowing with problems and possibilities I have to consider."

He dumped down in the nearest chair and closed his eyes.

Pritchard grinned at him. He had no doubt that Crowley would make a fine leader, but being leader also meant taking on some not so fun responsibilities and having to look at more things from more sides than the rest of them would have to.

"Did you tell him that you sacked Stilson?" Pritchard asked cheerfully.

Crowley opened an eye to look at him. His cheerful tone was almost annoying with how drained Crowley felt right now, but he couldn't blame him for being happy to give Stilson some of his own medicine. He had rather enjoyed the reversal himself, too, after having been the one being told off by Stilson just a couple of months earlier. "Yes. He was surprised at the quick dismissal, but he won't contest it. He's mostly worried about our small numbers and getting the Corps back to full strength as soon as possible. I've told him we are working on getting in contact with the old Rangers to invite them back."

"That could take a while," Pritchard reminded him.

"Yeah, I know," Crowley said with a sigh. "For now we will simply have to make do with what we have." He stretched, leaned forward in the chair and waved a hand around the office. "But first we need to get all of this in order. Then we'll do a proper round of spring cleaning and work our way through the former Rangers, hoping to get as many as possible to come back to Araluen."

Pritchard nodded. It made sense to deal with the fake Rangers, as he liked to call them, before they dove into the full reformation of the Corps.

Crowley flopped back in the chair again. "But before I do anything else I'll take a nap. Wake me in twenty minutes."

Pritchard grinned and returned to the stack in front of him. He was glad he wasn't the Commandant.

§

Egon was watching Stilson, who was shooting arrow after arrow at three targets on the range in the courtyard. To an outsider it probably looked impressive the way he kept hitting the targets, but to Egon it was less satisfactory. He shook his head slightly. Stilson had been Ranger trained, but his skills were mediocre, at least as far as the older Ranger was concerned. Yes, he hit his targets, and yes, his arrows were generally somewhere in the middle, but the range wasn't all that long, only a 100 meters, and his arrows still hit everything from dead centre to the second ring. And then there was the speed with which he shot; he was far slower than a Ranger should be. Egon wondered if he had always been this bad or if he had simply not bothered to keep up his training after he became Commandant.

Whatever the reason Egon decided that Stilson didn't really deserve the silver oakleaf, and he was glad that Crowley had taken it. Of course, it was clear that Stilson was anything but happy. His stance wasn't relaxed as it should be, but he looked tense and angry. Under other circumstances Stilson wouldn't have been allowed near a weapon such as the bow, but Egon knew he could shoot faster and with more precision than Stilson, so he wasn't too concerned. And of course, there was the fact that Stilson was inside Castle Araluen and surrounded by knights, so he would have to be very foolish to try and shoot anyone.

He was wearing a dark green cloak, his Ranger's cloak turned in along with the double scabbard with the two knives. Instead he wore a single knife, but even if he didn't live up to Egon's expectations of what a Ranger should be able to do, Egon knew he could still do a lot of damage with it if he wanted to. Even a poor Ranger was still better than just about everyone else in the country.

Stilson finally seemed done with shooting the targets to pieces, plucking his arrows from them and placing them back in his quiver. He strode a few meters away and flicked his knife at the nearest target. Then he retrieved it and did it again. And again and again.

Egon raised an eyebrow. Stilson seems to have taken a sudden interest in practising his skills. We had better keep close watch of him.

He kept watch silently as Stilson kept flicking the knife at the targets and retrieving it for the next hour before he finally stopped and went back to the castle itself in time for dinner.

Egon roused himself from his position and followed him inside. He was hungry himself and it was at any rate Berwick's turn to keep track of Stilson. Hopefully Berwick had already eaten, otherwise it would simply be too bad for him. Egon allowed himself a small grin as he turned towards the large dining hall.

§

Crowley frowned at Egon. Not so much at the man himself, but more at his report of what Stilson had been doing today. "He's spent the whole day at the range practising?"

"Pretty much, yes. After he turned in his cloak and daggers, he went back to his rooms and came out again shortly after with his bow and quiver and headed straight for the range. He spent roughly three hours there."

Crowley nodded while he continued to frown. Egon was just summarising the things he had already told him, but Rangers believed in making sure nothing had been left out or forgotten.

Crowley was both puzzled and worried at Stilson's sudden interest in practising his weapons skill. Granted he didn't know how much time Stilson usually spent at the range, but he felt confident it wasn't this much. And three hours seemed a bit excessive just for venting. No, he felt sure Stilson was planning something, but whether it was an attack or simply to make a run for it, he didn't know. Or even something completely different. He simply didn't know him well enough to know what might be going through his head right now.

He looked at Egon, who looked relaxed in the high backed chair he was sitting in. "If he's suddenly training like this we might need to keep extra careful watch of him." He sighed. "But we are only four Rangers and don't have the numbers for double watch."

Egon waved a hand in dismissal. "He may be training now, but he's slow and his skills leave something to be desired. Any one of us can still do better than him."

Crowley smiled slightly. It was a sentiment he fully agreed with. "Oh, I know. In a fair fight I know where I would put my money. I'm mostly worried that the fight wouldn't be fair. Or that he would target someone else."

He knew the Rangers would be able to deal with Stilson if the need arose, but that wasn't the case for the rest of the castle inhabitants. They didn't just need to protect themselves and the King and the Prince; they also needed to protect all the innocent people in the castle itself and that could complicate things.

"Even so, Berwick and I are both faster and better than him. But I'll make sure to check up on Berwick regularly just in case."

Crowley nodded. He agreed with Egon, but he couldn't afford to underestimate Stilson or ignore that he had spent the day weapons training after Crowley had taken his silver oakleaf and stripped him of the rank of Ranger. That would simply be foolish.

He really wished he didn't have to deal with Stilson while simultaneously trying to reform the Ranger Corps, sorting through the mess in the office, and advising Duncan on things he had barely considered before. He was starting to realise that the job of Commandant had a lot more to it than just assigning fiefs and missions to the other Rangers and telling them what to do.

"Get back out there and let me know if he continues with the weapons training."

Egon nodded and rose. "See you later. Have fun," he added to Pritchard.

Pritchard just shook his head. "How can anyone see this as fun?"

Crowley didn't bother replying, but went back to his stack of papers.

§

After the first couple of days, things settled into a sort of routine. Crowley and Pritchard would spend most of the day in the office with brief breaks to stretch their backs, get food and use the toilet, and Crowley would in addition meet with Prince Duncan after lunch, while Pritchard kept the King and Queen up to date on things. Egon and Berwick would shadow Stilson and report on his movements to Crowley and each other. Stilson for his part spent a lot of time in his quarters and at the range. They were all worried about his sudden interest in the range, especially as they found out from the castle servants that that wasn't his usual behaviour. But after consulting with Duncan Crowley agreed to leave him be, at least until they had evidence of foul play, and so far they had not been able to prove that Stilson had known anything about Morgarath's planned betrayal and treachery to the crown beforehand. It looked more and more likely that Stilson had simply been a willfully blind pawn, who had seen Morgarath as a way to gain more influence, but who hadn't seen through Morgarath's veil of lies, just like a host of barons hadn't. And that wasn't grounds for a trial or any punishment. At least not beyond what he had already received, and that hadn't been for being duped by Morgarath, but for disobeying Crowley's orders. As it were Crowley realised they might have to simply let Stilson go and hope he wouldn't want to exact revenge on any of them for losing his position as Commandant, which wasn't a prospect he liked.

Crowley and Pritchard had also gotten the papers in the office into some sort of order, and had started to look closer at them. Crowley had ordered all the information regarding the appointed Rangers and was working on a formal letter to call all of them to Castle Araluen at the same time. He needed to consider travelling times from the different parts of the kingdom as well as how many proper Rangers he could assemble, too. He would need pretty much all of them to make this work, and right now they were scattered around the country except for the four of them here. In the end he decided it would be easiest to just call for the yearly Gathering to be held at Castle Araluen due to 'special circumstances' and Prince Duncan readily agreed to it.

Pritchard, Egon, and Berwick had all sent out the first letters to the dismissed and banned Rangers. Crowley himself didn't have contact with any of them; due to his young age he hadn't been close friends with any of the dismissed Rangers and had no idea where they had all gone to. But he hoped they would start getting replies within a few weeks and that people would be coming back. He didn't want to think about the ramifications if no one came back or only a few did so.

And so the days settled into a routine. The work load didn't diminish, but things had fallen into a sort of order and while Crowley was still dead tired at the end of each day, his brain no longer felt like it was being pounded with a meat hammer and put through a wringer. Now it was just the wringer and he was sure that wouldn't last either.