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 3

While Will much preferred travelling with Halt, Horace and Gilan, he could not say he really had anything much against Harcourt. Of course, the man insisted on making tea with every meal which meant they had to make two pots. One of tea and one of coffee. He probably was the only Ranger that Will had met who did not drink coffee.

He did most of the cooking with Gilan in a more supportive role. The older ranger was an expert with the knife, and could peel, chop and dice anything faster than Will could. The sharp tool seemed to move in a blur as Gilan diced up carrots, potatoes and wild onions for the stew. In the meantime, Will was preparing the rabbit that they had skinned and jointed, dragging the pieces lightly through a mix of flour and spice to be prepared in a frying pan.

Harcourt looked on with mild curiosity as they worked, fidgeting a little with various minor tasks as fetching water and firewood. Will didn't think much of it, he and Gilan were quite used to working together. They were both well used to how Halt wanted things done, and that meant they did not need to say very much to one another. When Will had laid out half a dozen large potatoes, Gilan didn't need to ask if he wanted them for the stew or not. He had noted the pot and the pan and knew what his friend intended to do. It meant they were efficient, and did not need to waste time on instructions. Occasionally, Gilan might ask how large he wanted the pieces, but aside from that there was not much talk. They were both comfortable working, and soon enough a delightful fragrance was rising from the pot.

As the younger Ranger tended to it, Gilan had sat himself the task of pitching their small one-man tents and laying out their bedrolls.

This task only took a few minutes, so after he was done, he sat trying to mend his worn out boots with a piece of leather thong.

Looking at him with an amused smile, Will didn't hold much hope for his success, but it should help to make sure they lasted until they got back to Redmont. He did not blame Gilan for wanting to get the new ones there. It was important that the boots fit well and held up. Not everyone made them as well as the cobbler in Wensley Village. He himself would not have wanted to do with less, so he certainly understood why Gilan did not want to either. A pair of ill fitting boots could give you some really nasty blisters and sores.

As the food was ready he divided it between their three plates, pouring two mugs of coffee and allowing Harcourt to take his mug of tea.

"Harcourt," Gilan started thoughtfully as they ate. "If you take first watch, then wake Will, I'll take last watch."

"Sounds okay," the man nodded.

Will gave his friend a slightly amused look, first watch was generally considered the easiest. Therefor most often given to the one who either was the most inexperienced, or the youngest. The last watch was considered to be the hardest, which meant it was most often taken by the most experienced one. Certainly, in a group like the Rangers, this could mean a lot less, and often was a random distribution of the watches so that everyone would get the more and less comfortable watch periods.

If Gilan had gone by experience, he should have given Will the first one, taken the second one for himself, and given the last one to Harcourt. In this case, Will thought it was because he did not know Harcourt well enough to know how well he handled watch, and therefor wanted him on the easiest one where it should matter less if he made a mistake.

Both Will and Gilan were experienced enough neither would sleep long past the time they expected to take over watch. Should Harcourt fail to wake them, one of them would react and wake up by themselves.

In taking the last watch for himself, Gilan was giving Will the slightly easier one, as seemed to be the habit of him.

When Harcourt did shake Will's shoulder, he woke instantly, crawling out of the tent and stringing his bow, fully alert. Harcourt stifled a yawn and disappeared into his own tent, while Will had to smile for himself. From Gilan's tent, there was the quiet sound of someone settling down in their blankets again. Obviously, Gilan had woken up to make sure Harcourt handed over the watch to Will.

Taking a good position with an overview of the camp, Will settled down. Bow in hand, and two arrows ready. One knocked, but not drawn, and one between two fingers. This meant in case of an intruder, he did not risk giving his position away by the movement of reaching for his quiver. He would have two arrows ready to shoot in a second.

The watch was quiet though, and he handed it over to Gilan, feeling an immense gratitude to wrap himself into his blankets for a few more hours of sleep.

They made good time, and reached the farm that had been the victim just shortly before the estimated time given them by Harcourt.

The devastation was enough to turn Will's stomach. Part of the farmhouse had been burnt down. He doubted they had had the manpower to try and put out the fire, but perhaps the rain had done it. One and a quarter of a wall had been burnt away though, and charred rubble still smelled quite heavily of smoke. Past the charred timber Will could see what was left of the interior of the house. A crumbled and burnt bed, broken crockery on the floor, by the looks of it, plates that had once been the farmwife's pride and joy.

A crudely if lovingly made rag doll, with one leg and arm burnt lay in the yard, mud staining the once quite nice dress she wore. When it was made, it must have been a piece left over from when the farm wife's best dress was made.

There were gouges in the dirt outside, small furrows that had filled up with rain and were only now drying out.

The rain barrel had been broken, the ground around it dried up mud with part of a footprint in it. Most likely they farmer's himself Will surmised.

Smelling a heavy pungent yet sweet odour he walked around the house, and nearly retched. The carcass of a pig lay there, having started to rot. Hurriedly, he turned back around the corner and Gilan looked up, frowning as he looked at him. The taller Ranger had been studying something by the half collapsed wall, but now he turned to where Will had come from instead, while the younger man moved over to where Harcourt stood. He had seen animal carcasses before, he had done his share of hunting, and cleaning them out to eat them. It wasn't that it was a dead pig that had thrown him so. It was the general state of the farm, and the realization that the people had most likely been left just like the pig after the attack.

Even the owner of the mud stained doll…

"He's probably just wasting his time," Harcourt mused. "There's not much here to see."

"He usually knows what he's doing, and he won't waste time," Will shook his head.

"I've been over this place, I couldn't find anything," Harcourt shrugged. Pulling a pipe out of his pocket he filled the bowl and lit it with a flint and his saxe knife.

While Will didn't know exactly what Gilan was looking for, he knew he wouldn't be wasting their time, so though he did not feel he could contribute anything himself, he waited patiently. He did not understand how his friend could seem so unphased by the state of the farm. His lips were pressed in a hard line, and his brow was furrowed while his eyes was hard, but he did not seem affected as Will had been. He seemed more angry or aggravated than anything else.

"Didn't find anything, did you?" Harcourt asked as Gilan came to stand beside them.

"I found plenty," Gilan told him, digging into his pack to find two apples he gave one to Tug and one to Blaze. That was the first Will had seen how much the scene had affected him. Oh, Gilan was as likely to spoil Blaze as he himself was to do the same for Tug. Though generally not like this, at the end of the day as they struck camp, after a hard ride, or when he put them in the stable and the weather had been foul. For him to do so now, it would be because Gilan himself needed a measure of comfort, and if Will was to believe Halt, he did not know how to ask for it.

The whole time they had been on the road, even in Harcourt's cabin, Gilan had done all the little things to protect Will, because he felt it his responsibility, so now, he did not think he could approach Will for what he needed himself.

Instead he gave the apples to the horses, because the two ponies would nuzzle him in thanks, and in the hope for more, and that was the only comfort the taller Ranger knew how to reach out for.

It seemed silly, but Will could see how it was, and he was glad, very glad when Blaze seemed to have realized the same thing and showed her head into Gilan's shoulder. Nearly knocking him over as she rubbed her forehead against his chest.

"What was it then?" Harcourt pushed, he obviously did not see what had happened. "What does it mean? What you found?"

"I don't know," Gilan shrugged.

Harcourt frowned, "that doesn't make sense. How can you have found something if you don't know what it means?"

"It means, I found several things that are a bit odd, or don't seem right, but I won't know what exactly they mean until I have seen more," Gilan told him patiently. "It could all be a coincidence, or it could not be, it should show depending on what we find later."

To Will it made sense, Gilan might not be certain exactly what it was, but he had catalogued it and would be ready to act on it later. That was the kind of thing that Gilan did best, better than Will. He had no doubt Gilan would be able to do it, if he saw further signs later.

"That's all well and good," Harcourt took a pull on his pipe. "But if we don't know what we're looking for until we've found it, how do we know where to look for it?"

"They have attacked several farms, haven't they?" Gilan asked and at Harcourt's nod he continued. "Then rather than just waiting for them to attack the next one, I say we go to the next most recent one. That will give us an idea if what we see here is their standard way of operation or not."

"Well, I suppose we might, that would be three days from here," Harcourt mused. "Three and a half if we stop at the Crossings Inn, they got good food there, and a chance to sleep in a bed."

"We'll see," Gilan decided, and Will hid a grin. Since he put it that way, Will knew that Gilan didn't intend to waste half a day for such trivial comfort.

How long it took for Harcourt to realize it, remained to see.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…