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 15

"What will happen with the bandits?" Will suddenly asked and Crowley looked at the younger man. Will had been quiet in his grief, much like he knew he himself had been. Together they were headed for Redmont, as Crowley felt it was his duty both to ensure Will was okay, or at least as okay as was possible in the situation, and to inform Jenny. Harcourt had headed back to his own Fief, and had seemed most eager to be on his way.

"They will be dealt with," Crowley stated now, "but you are in no shape to do it."

Reluctantly Will nodded to the truth of that statement. He was somewhat distracted and he knew it. He had never before felt such a tremendous loss, Crowley was right about that. He had thought he knew all about personal tragedies, but this was different, it was far worse.

"I've let you down," he sighed.

"No, you've experienced something I had hoped you would never have to," Crowley shook his head.

"I guess I never thought it could happen to Gilan, he always seemed invulnerable, like Halt…"

"You didn't know him when he was an apprentice, he seemed pretty vulnerable at times back then," Crowley mused. "Capable, determined and absolutely devoted to being the best Ranger he could be, but still vulnerable. Gilan was more emotional than you," he glanced at the young man riding beside him. "Not so that it ever hindered him, but still, a bit more than you, and he never could sit still, it took Halt a long time to be able to get him to wait things out. He wasn't reckless, but he was always rushing into things. He forgot to take his own safety into account even if he thought about everyone else. It got him in trouble a couple of times…."

"I never saw him do that," Will mused. Gilan had always seemed pretty calm to him, energetic certainly, and determined, but never restless like Crowley described him.

"He learned to master it," the commandant now shrugged. "It took him a fair bit of effort, but he knew he had to, and Gilan was always very determined. When he knew he needed to do it, you wouldn't be able to stop him. He worked it out, with Halt's help, and became all the better for it. He'd still itch like nothing to rush off, but he learned not to show it."

"I certainly never saw it," Will confirmed. "I used to think I could never be as good as him."

"Gilan had his strengths, you have yours," again Crowley shrugged. "No one ever wanted you to be him. But I got a pretty good idea how you feel. I may be the commandant, but no one really thinks I'm as good a Ranger as Halt, and I was apprenticed before him…" he shook his head with an amused smile. "Yet I'm stuck in a dusty office while he's the one free to do as he pleases, and I'm mostly forgotten. I can live with that I suppose, there's certainly not much I can do to change it."

"Halt and you are legendary," Will mused. "Every gathering I hear them tell stories about all the things you did."

"From Gilan more than from anyone else I'd guess," Crowley shook his head with a sad smile. "He'd do that, so you wouldn't wonder too much about what he did. He always tried to keep that a bit on the quiet side."

"Why?" Will frowned, thoughtfully. "You always told me I could learn a lot from him, that I should ask him and talk to him because there was so much he could teach me." Though now that chance was gone and his chest tightened once more. There were so many things he should have asked him. So many things he might have learned and so many things he might have used to tease Halt about. "Why wouldn't he tell me about what he and Halt has done?"

"Because Gilan didn't want you to try and measure up to anyone but yourself," Crowley turned his head to look at him. "Did you ever wonder why Gilan only ever seemed to tell you stories about what he did wrong? He wanted you to have the benefit of learning from his mistakes, but he knew a great deal about trying to live up to someone else's image. He never wanted that for you, so he never let you know about what he had done, and trust me. Gilan has pulled off some pretty impressive feats, both as an apprentice and as a full Ranger."

Will was quiet for a moment, he had never thought about that, that maybe there was a reason why there seemed to be less talk of what Gilan had done, than it was about what he and Halt had accomplished. Absently he wiped at his eyes, sniffing, "I miss him…"

Crowley nodded slowly, silently riding alongside him for a moment before he answered. "We all do…"

They rode in silence for some time, both lost in their own thoughts and their own memories. Crowley thinking back further to a time when Halt's first apprentice had been running around, driving Halt half mad at the same time as he brought him a sense of family.

Before Gilan, Halt had been adamant he would never take an apprentice for any reason, then after he and the boy led the cavalry through to the other ford at Hackham Heath, Halt had said that if the boy still wanted to be a Ranger when he was old enough, Halt would put in a good word for him. That was when Crowley had known he'd take Gilan, and it was why he had never pushed Halt to take another apprentice. He had not wanted him to be engaged with another one when it came time for Gilan to join.

The whole time while he waited to be old enough, Gilan had tried to learn what he could on his own, and not done a half bad job out of it Crowley mused. He was nothing if not determined with an abundance of energy. Literally unable to be still for any length of time, he'd sneak through the wood, trying to learn how to do it soundlessly. He had scaled every wall in the castle, practicing his swordsmanship. He hadn't managed to get anyone to teach him the art of archery, but had studied the archers intently instead and didn't have a half bad technique.

He'd really drawn some of the best forward in Halt as well. Crowley would always be grateful for that. Gilan had always had a way of doing that. Most of the Rangers had taken to him, even if half of them found his endless energy to be somewhat annoying at the first Gathering he attended. While many of them were quite content to take a moment to sit around and enjoy the chance for peace and quiet, Gilan wanted to 'do' something… He had paced around the Gathering Grounds until Halt threatened to tie him up.

It had been one of Crowley's favourite Gatherings, seeing how the energetic youth had shaken a few of the older and more well established ones up. They simply did not know what to do with him. The sword he wore had only served to make it better, as many of them tried to tease him about it. None of them really thought he was any good with it. They heard who his father was, and assumed he wore it due to some idea that being the son of a knight gave him rights. One or two had even approached Crowley about putting an end to it, which he did, by telling them that Gilan had spent years training with the sword, and that they should hope they ever was as good with the bow as he was with it.

He did not think they had believed him then, the few of them that might have seen him at Hackham Heath had paid no attention to him then. Though they had teased him, Gilan had never objected to it. He was always very calm when people commented on his sword, or even made fun of it. The way he told Crowley, it was only silly to take offence when he knew how good he was. He felt no need to demonstrate his skill for their amusement, most of them should come to be glad for his skill though. Crowley had not the competence to judge his skill, it was something he did not know enough about. What he did know was that Sir David was considered one of the most formidable swordsmen in the country, and claimed that his son had surpassed him since he was twelve.

It was hard to believe that any foe had been able to best the young Ranger, but it was their greater number that had allowed them to come out of it victorious against him. In fair play, Crowley knew they would not have been able to do so.

He glanced up at the sky, frowning over the clear blue of a warm day. It might have been uncomfortable hot if not for a steady gentle breeze. Ordinarily, it would have been the perfect day, but it hardly fit his mood. Pouring icy rain would have suited him better this time. Losing a Ranger always hit him hard, there were so few of them and he knew each of their number, if not well, so at least well enough. He took it personal, but Gilan was personal. Gilan was his, much the same as he was Halt's, there was no other Ranger he could have said that of. Will was Halt's alone, Crowley had had no part in his training like he had had with Gilan.

Back then it had only been natural that the two of them should sometimes meet up, tackling one of the more dangerous assignments together, taking Gilan with them. The youth had been one of the bright spots in an endless amount of dusty documents and hours spent behind a desk when he could have been out in the sun and the wind and the rain like the rest of them.

"Perhaps we should stop in the next village for something to eat," he started slowly, and beside him Will gave a start. They had been riding in silence for some time, and obviously Will hadn't expected him to talk.

"I suppose," the younger man glanced up at the sky to judge the position of the sun. Frowning as he realized how far along it was, and they had not eaten. Then again, it was days since he had last been able to claim he had any form of appetite.

"If I remember correctly, there's an inn there that has quite decent food," Crowley mused. "Though it's a long time since I was there. Our horses would probably be grateful for the rest though."

"I suppose," Will nodded again, not really any more enthusiastic about the conversation than he was about the idea of food.

Beside him, Crowley bit down a sigh, Will had no real experience with such a loss. He had grown up with the loss of his parents, it had always been there, which did not make it less terrible as such. However, he had never before felt the sharp stab in the heart that came with asudden loss such as this had been. When it felt like your whole soul had been tore asunder. He really had hoped he wouldn't have to, but in their line of work he knew that was nothing but wishful thinking.

Over the years, there had been many times when he did not really know how he and Halt had survived. He had not even known how close it had been at one time. He had only found out afterwards that they had found him and Halt both unconscious, Halt sprawled over him, because even at the very last second of consciousness, Halt had tried to protect him. There were times he had not been certain they would survive, could not see how they would be able to pull through, and they always seemed to just the same.

Dirty and grimy, dead on their feet with fatigue, looking at Halt and that grim look on his face, Gilan standing beside them, smiling…. It had been so many times, even in spite of knowing better he had sometimes felt they were invincible.

He had known that wasn't true, and had always tried to plan for safety. Yet they had lost men, he could recount all their names, see their faces if he closed his eyes and always known that no matter what he did, how hard he worked, they would not be the last.

Yet there was a stab in his heart now, a voice that cried out that it was wrong. A part of him that raged and wanted to refuse the facts.

That claimed it could not be true, he could not be gone, it could not be so, not Gilan…

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…