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 2

Harcourt had been a Ranger longer than Gilan, yet there was not much that the taller Ranger could tell him about him Will mused. Rangers tended to be a close knit group that relied on each other, but that did not mean they always knew everyone personally.

"He's somewhat quiet, cautious and not really one to approach you," Gilan shrugged. "I've seen him at the gatherings, but I never had much reason to speak to him. I demonstrated unseen movements to some of the younger apprentices, and he wanted to know where I'd gone off to. Didn't seem to realize that I was right there. I always found that to be a bit odd, but there are enough of us there is bound to be a few odd ones."

"I thought you were the odd one," Will baited his friend. "You're not like any of the others."

"You ask Crowley, I'm too much like Halt," Gilan snorted, though he gave the sword he carried a pat with a grin. "Though I suppose I'm not exactly standard. None of the others seem to ever brain themselves on an ordinary doorway."

"Have you ever considered that if you stopped doing that, you might spare what was left of your brain?" Will challenged.

"Have you ever considered that if you kept your mouth shut, no one would want to run a sword through you?" Gilan gave him a rap over the top of the head with his knuckles. He liked to do that, Will mused. Probably because he could do so without having to really strain. If Will was ever to try and do that to him, he would have to get something to stand on.

"The sword is really odd," Will decided, serious once more. "I don't think I've heard of another Ranger with a sword."

"Me neither, but Farrel had a battle axe," Gilan shrugged. "He was Ranger in Redmont before Halt. Baron Arald mentioned it to me once, when I first became Halt's apprentice. He called me in to talk to me, said he wanted to get to know me a little better. I think he had already found out a good deal about me. But I have to say I approved of it just the same. He really does care to know what's going on in his fief."

"He never did that with me," Will mused, then glared at his friend as he was given another rap on the top of the head.

"You grew up there, you weren't exactly a surprise to him you know," Gilan pointed out. "Though he did know me a little bit before as well I suppose. I met him at a couple of tournaments before Morgarath tried to take the throne. And then at Hackham Heath to, he knew my father somewhat, so I guess he just wanted to see if I was what he thought I was."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Will agreed.

When they met Harcourt, it seemed Gilan had been right though he hadn't really been able to say much. Harcourt was a little shorter than average, making him average for a Ranger. His dirt coloured hair was somewhat stripy and unwashed. His clothes were worn and crudely mended. The double scabbard was sat on a leather belt that dug somewhat into the generous waistline.

"Will, Gilan," he greeted them. A little odd Will mused. Rangers addressed one another by name. There was no seniority between them on most levels, only a few held any form of higher rank, such as Crowley as their commandant. There were numbers on the back of their oakleaves, but it was not a rank, just a way to identify the oakleaf should it be found without the Ranger. They were assigned as they became available, not in any form of rank. Yet Gilan had been a Ranger longer than he himself had, and most of the others would have addressed Gilan first.

Still, it was hardly something noteworthy, and he had built up a bit more of a reputation than Gilan. There was however no doubt that his friend considered himself to be more or less in charge, as the taller Ranger addressed Harcourt without hesitation. "What can you tell us about this matter? We didn't get a lot of information."

"I don't have a lot more," Harcourt sighed. "They are too fast for me, I can't keep up with them, and they're really good at hiding their tracks. I'm not a bad tracker, but Halt is better, which is why I asked Crowley for help. I want this dealt with as fast as possible."

"Yes, I'm sure we can help," Will decided. For himself and Halt it wouldn't have been a problem he was certain. It wasn't the same to have Gilan along as it would have been to have Halt, yet it wasn't that bad either. He was good company and he was a very skilled ranger. If he couldn't have Halt with him, he was glad to have Gilan.

"Do you know how many there are, what kind of weapons?" Gilan asked.

"I'm not sure, maybe two dozen, maybe more," Harcourt shrugged. "And mostly swords and axes I think, but clubs and knives as well. A few bows. Some of the murdered victims has been found with arrows in them, others has been just about hacked to pieces."

"Do you know where they were last?" Gilan continued, his brow furrowed slightly in what Will knew to be concentration. He had a habit of doing that, Halt said it meant he was thinking hard. So far, Will hadn't heard anything that would demand such heavy thinking, but he wouldn't say anything about it. Halt insisted Gilan was good at it, and sometimes would figure out the small details that might seem insignificant, but tended to be very important.

Harcourt bobbed his head up and down, "they raided a farm only a week ago, it's about two days ride from here. I have already been there, but I couldn't find anything."

"Can you take us there?" Gilan wanted to know.

"I suppose," Harcourt scratched his head. "But I didn't find anything. I don't know if you will."

"We need to start somewhere, we might as well start there," Gilan shrugged.

"The tracks will be old by the time we get there, some will even be washed away by the rain," Harcourt frowned. "Are you sure it's worth it?"

"I want to see what it looks like, not just the tracks, all of it," Gilan decided. "Not all the clues are lying on the ground you know, and there is always a chance we do find something. If something else happens before we get there, we can deal with that. But if not, what do we have to lose by going there?"

"Do you want to go there?" Harcourt turned to Will. "It might just be a waste of time."

"Even so, it will probably be better than just sitting here," Will decided. "We'd do no good at all doing that, and we might find something there."

"Well, I suppose so then," Harcourt decided. "Thought we might as well wait until tomorrow, we'd not get very far tonight anyway."

"Tomorrow will be good enough," Gilan agreed. It wasn't too late, but he figured Harcourt was the kind of person who wanted to start each new task on a new day. Where he would have been happy to set out, and go as far as was reasonable, and it meant that much less to do the next day. "I suppose Blaze and Tug will thank us for the rest," he added. "Is there anywhere to get apples here?"

"They have some in the village I suppose," Harcourt scratched his head. "Do you want apples?"

"For our horses," Will put in. "We didn't have a lot of them with us, and they worked hard on the way here."

"Oh," Harcourt nodded. "Well, I don't know what you want to do for supper. I got the fixings for stew, but I'm not much of a cook. If you wanted, you could eat at the inn."

"Or, I make the stew, and Gilan goes to the village and gets a couple of apples," Will decided. It wasn't that he had the right to order Gilan around, but out of the two of them, he was the better cook. Even if he had noticed that Gilan slowly and steadily improved. He didn't have the natural feel for it that Halt and Will shared, but he never had stopped trying. Whenever he mastered something, he started trying to figure out something else, and that meant his food really wasn't all that bad.

"Sounds fine to me," is there anything else we need?" Gilan wanted to know.

"I doubt it, I got a plenty well stocked pantry," Harcourt decided. "I got more than enough tea, even some wine."

"Any coffee?" Will asked and he shook his head. "Honey?" again Harcourt shook his head.

"Well, I'd better get some of that then," Gilan decided. They had enough for a few days, but if there was none to brew at the cabin, they needed to replenish their supplies.

Will in the meantime, after a nod from Harcourt had checked the pantry. "Why don't you get some fresh bread as well? Perhaps a little butter?"

"Do I need a wagon?" Gilan raised an eyebrow, "or are you done?"

"No, that should do it," Will decided. The so called well stocked pantry had been on the bare side, but there was enough for a stew. He'd found plenty of carrots, a bin of potatoes, a large braid of onions and garlic. It might not be the best stew he had ever made, but it should be good enough.

Gilan wasn't gone long, coming back with everything that Will had asked for, and even half an apple pie. Shrugging when Will gave it a questioning look. "I had to go to the tavern for the coffee, nice fellow, his wife seemed worried we wouldn't have enough to eat though. I tried to assure her that we'd be fine, but she was quite insistent, tried to give me the pie, but I did at least insist on paying for it. I didn't think you'd mind something sweet."

"I generally don't," Will grinned. Gilan with his lanky frame tended to offend the maternal instincts of some women he had noticed. They all seemed to share a passion for feeding him. Something the taller Ranger was more or less oblivious to. He did not seem to understand why, but he generally accepted the food more or less graciously. Some of them might have preferred if he did not insist on paying for it, but at least they got the satisfaction of knowing he was eating.

While Will made the stew, and Gilan brewed a pot of coffee, Harcourt seemed content to make himself a cup of tea and procure the reports that Gilan asked for.

Will had noticed it before, Gilan was a lot like Crowley in that regard. He could spend hours pouring over reports, and seemed to find things in them Will was not certain was there. Crowley was great at organization, and could look at a map over Araluen and feel where each Ranger was best placed. Gilan, with a stack of reports was able to add and subtract minute details from each one to assemble a large mental picture.

While they ate, he knew his friend was thinking, mulling it over in his mind, making mental notes of the reports.

Cleaning up after the meal did not take long, like all Ranger cabins, there was a larger bedroom which belonged to Harcourt, and a smaller one that could either room a guest, or an apprentice. In most cabins, this was kept free if there was no apprentice.

In Halt's cabin, there had been no sign that anyone had been living there before Will. When Gilan left, he had taken everything he owned with him, and Halt kept his possessions in his own bedroom. Harcourt it seemed used his as a sort of storage room. A few ragged blankets in the corner, a couple of sacks of something. A crate stood on the floor under the table and a small assortment of random odds and ends was on the table.

"You can take the bed," Gilan shrugged as he studied the room.

"You don't want it?" Will didn't think it looked too bad. It was a bit cluttered, but not dirty nor too dusty.

"Looks a bit on the short side, it'd suit you better," Gilan shrugged. "I generally prefer to be all out of the bed, rather than just partly out of it."

"I suppose that makes sense," Will agreed. "Want to borrow my blanket?" it would make sleeping on the floor a little more comfortable.

"I wouldn't mind," with a warm smile Gilan created a space for himself on the floor. At first, Will had thought the size of the bed really was all there was to it. However, it did not escape his notice, now that he had become aware of it, that Gilan made his bedding on the floor by the window.

It would seem, the taller Ranger was still keeping his vigil over the younger one…

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry….