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…

Additional Author's note for sensitive Readers: I want this story to be realistic, which means, it might contain bits that some find more difficult. I have chosen not to give specific warnings, as that would lessen the impact of the events. However, there is nothing horribly descriptive, and nothing permanent. I only wish this to have a sense of realism to the reader.

Chapter 11

As he watched them set Will on Tug, Gilan knew he stood no chance. He had killed several of them, they had felt just how dangerous a Ranger was with his longbow, they would not settle for less than revenge.

At least Will would be free, he tried to find some consolation in that, he was glad that his friend would be safe. Yet he could not help the sense of betrayal, Harcourt had given him up so easily, had been so sure Halt wanted him to pick Will. Gilan wanted him to pick Will. Gilan had wanted him to save Will, had wanted to scream at him to take Will, and yet he felt betrayed.

Not because he had saved Will, but because he had been so certain that Gilan himself had not mattered. He had never hesitated, never even questioned his decision, and he knew Harcourt was not the only one so certain Halt preferred Will over him.

He had known it since the first time he had met Will, he had known it when Halt took Will with him to fight the Kalkara and sent Gilan away on foot. He had known it then, and it had hurt. He loved Will like a brother, but Halt had been the first one he felt had truly seen his worth, and yet it had not lasted very long.

He did not resent Will, he could not, because it was not his fault, it was Gilan's own fault for not being good enough. He never quite seemed to be. He was skilled with the sword, but he did not have the mindset of a knight.

He loved his father and desperately wanted him to be proud of him, but he had failed to meet his expectations. Perhaps, it was because his skill with the sword he felt so deeply that he had betrayed his father, for he was better than most, and his father had expected him to be Battlemaster like him. To serve the King as he had done himself, instead, Gilan hadn't been able to resist the lure of the Rangers.

Halt had been like a father to him, someone he looked up to, and was terrified of failing, and Halt had seemed to accept his flaws, and not seen him as less for them. He patiently helped him with the cooking that seemed to be his downfall, he allowed him to train with the sword though he himself had no skill in it. He had been more than his mentor, Halt had been his home.

Not anymore though, now he knocked when he came to the cabin, because it was Will's home now, not really his own. Halt didn't think he measured up to Will, and Halt was the only one Gilan could not stand the thought of disappointing…only he had. He had when he was not good enough to go against the Kalkara, leaving a mere boy to do it. He had when he failed to keep them safe in Celtica. He had now, and he never would again…

He never would fail Halt again, for soon he knew he would be dead….

Had Will known what Gilan was thinking, he would have been outraged, but he did not know. All he knew at that very moment was that he was slowly, waking, and that into a world of pain.

At first he did not know where he was, everything was hazy and he could not focus, the swaying motion made him nauseas, and he struggled to swallow down the bile that wanted to rise in his throat.

Slowly he dared to open his eyes, and he saw Blaze. The taller Ranger pony was following him, facing him, her head hanging and her hooves seeming to drag on the ground.

He lay on a litter he realized, a litter dragged by Tug, and Harcourt was riding beside him.

"Gilan?" his voice was weak, and hoarse, but he could not see his friend. Blaze's saddle was empty. "Gilan!"

"Will!" Harcourt drew rein and both ponies stopped, Blaze taking a moment longer before she too drew to halt. "Will, thank heavens, I was so worried. You've been unconscious for so long," scrambling to the ground Harcourt knelt beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Where's Gilan?" Will struggled to sit up. "Where is he?"

"Gilan, is gone," Harcourt lowered his eyes. "I, I couldn't save him, there was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry Will, but I barely got you out, he's gone…"

"He's dead?" Will struggled to rise, though his legs did not quite seem to want to hold him. "No! He's not dead, he can't be! He can't be dead! Say he's not, say he's not dead!"

"I'm sorry, but, he's, gone…" Harcourt choked, tears running down his face, and Will's legs no longer seemed able to support him. He sank to the ground, stunned, not even crying, because he could not believe it.

"No…" he moaned. "No…"

He was numb, in shock, and only vaguely aware that Harcourt eased him onto the litter again, placed a waterskin in his hand and mounted his own pony.

Laying on the litter, Will's gaze met Blaze's, and he felt the pain in those big brown eyes.

He could not accept that Gilan was gone, that he would never more see his mischievous cheerful smile, hear his laughter or watch him tease Halt. He could not accept it, but all the while Blaze trudged behind them, and every time he looked, the saddle remained empty….

When they stopped for the night he had roused himself a little, his head ached, and he felt terrible, but the worst was the loss of his friend.

"What happened?" he asked, not saying anymore. Harcourt knew what he meant, there was only one thing he would want to know.

"They captured him as he tried to free you, I, I remained hidden for the time being, but I couldn't leave without trying to save you," Harcourt whispered. "I wanted to save you both, but I don't have your skill. I did what I could, I did the best I could, but I could only save you. He's gone…"

Will nodded slowly, he was surprised Harcourt had even been able to save him, but Gilan dead…that was still more than he wanted to accept.

He did not say another word, he did not eat anything of the frugal meal that Harcourt provided. There was nothing to say and he had no desire to eat when Gilan was gone.

He did not sleep at all, thought he lay on his blanket. He lay awake and stared into the darkness.

When the sky finally started to lighten at the brink of dawn, he got up, he removed Gilan's sword from Blaze's saddle and fastened it to his own. He ate a piece of bread and some jerky, because someone had to tell Halt. He could not let him hear it from Harcourt, he deserved to hear it from Will, and it would hurt him. It would hurt him badly, and if Will wasn't there to support him, he would have betrayed Gilan's memory and trust.

He could not do that, it was the only reason why he forced himself to eat and drink some water as they headed back. There was no other reason to keep going, but for the fact that anything else would be a betrayal of Gilan.

Losing Gilan would break Halt's heart, and the only one who might understand was Will, who's heart had already been shattered.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…