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 34

"Gilan," Pauline brushed back a lock of hair from his forehead, waiting until the young man was looking at her. Turning a somewhat sluggish gaze to hers. The surgeon had been by the very first thing in the morning, examining him and giving his verdict. To help preserve his modesty, she had waited in the outer room with Crowley while Halt remained both to help, to offer his former apprentice moral support, and because no one was fool enough to ask he left.

Once Pauline had re-entered the room, it was clear to her that the experience had both unsettled and exhausted the young man. His breathing was almost shaky, and he kept his eyes away from them, eyes damp as Halt sat grim faced.

The improperly healed fractures and the state of malnourishment were the most immediate concerns. The first would be an arduous and painful experience, crippling him further, at least for a time. The second would take time, be difficult and demand some firm and gentle support from those who loved him.

Halt and Crowley had debated waiting to have the fractures re-set until David was back and could help look after his son. They had decided against it on recommendation from the surgeon. Every day they delayed would only make it harder. Better to have it done with.

The problem was that it would be an agonizing thing to have done, and Gilan unlike most could not be given poppy juice.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Pauline took his hand, showing him a small vial she had in her other hand. "This is a knock-out drug we couriers sometimes use," she told him softly. Gilan was very well aware of the roles a courier sometimes played, and what they were asked to do. He knew she was very well capable of defending herself, and the kingdom if need be. He was under no illusion that she had never sullied her hands with blood. "It will give you a pretty nasty headache when you wake up, and you will be nauseous. But you will be unconscious and there is no poppy juice in it."

Gilan gave a small nod, hesitant and worried.

"Do you want me to give it to you?" she asked softly. She knew that some would refuse because they did not trust the drugs. If used wrong, they could be quite dangerous, and one had to judge how much was needed, but she was confident she could do it. The poor boy would feel terrible when he woke up, but she felt it would still be better for him.

Obviously Gilan felt the same way, for he gave another nod.

"I will mix it with some wine and honey, it will mask the taste," she smiled. "I'm afraid it's not very tasty in itself, but very effective."

"Like a striker," he mumbled and she smiled.

"Like a striker, but we couriers tend to be more subtle," she smiled. "Even if I'm sometimes very tempted to do it your Ranger way, sometimes, knocking someone out with a blunt object is a lot more satisfactory you know."

They had already gathered what they would need, and she had been confident he would trust her enough to agree, so now she took a goblet of warmed wine. Taking into account how much weight he had lost she measured out the liquid from the vial and put a spoonful of honey in as well before stirring to dissolve it. Later, she could give him some tea of herbs to help with the headache and nausea. Even with it though, it was more merciful.

He allowed her to raise his head, and help him drink the sweet liquid, brushing a hand over his scraggly beard as she waited for it to work. "As soon as this is over, we will do something about this," she promised. "I think you'd like to be clean shaven again."

"Yes," Gilan closed his eyes, clenching his good hand in the blanket. He knew how her drugs worked, at least close enough, and knew it would be fast. Soon enough he felt the room spin, drop sickeningly under him and he clasped at her with a gasp as he plummeted through the darkness. Her hand in his the last thing he was aware of before the darkness took it all.

"You can do what you need to now," she stated to the surgeon. "That's the best I can do."

"He might still feel it, and move, you'll need to hold him," the man urged Halt and Crowley, Duncan standing a little further away. Some would say the King had more important things to see to than the medical treatment of a Ranger. Perhaps it was true, Duncan did not care. He could not really see how anything would be more important. Not only because it was the son of one of his closest friends, but because of the man himself.

"You might want to leave," the surgeon nodded to Pauline. "This is not really a pleasant task, and not something a lady should have to see."

"It's not very pleasant for him either," she stated firmly. "And I intend to stay with him, even if I can't do anything else I will do that."

"She's a courier," Duncan put in with a smile. "You'd better let her do as she wants."

Shrugging the man directed them to what he wanted them to do.

As the first limb was re-fractured, and re-set, his wrist, the young Ranger bucked under their hands with a faint cry. Even if he never woke he reacted to it, and it turned Halt's stomach.

The ankle was even worse, his eyes squeezed shut he struggled against them, tears rolling down his cheeks as he sobbed, and Pauline sought to calm him even as the three men held him to keep him from doing further damage to himself with his thrashing.

In all, it didn't take much longer than an hour before it was done, and both limbs were splinted firmly, but Halt felt as if he had aged twenty years under the process.

Pauline had felt the need to turn away, and had sent for hot water, steeping her herbs in it before setting it close to the fire to keep warm. Gilan was tossing restlessly on the bed, muttering under his breath even if he did not seem to know they were there.

She was not surprised, as powerful as the drug she had given him was, the pain of the procedure would have had to have been unbearable.

"Is that all?" Duncan wanted to know, feeling quite drained himself. There were certain things that just did that to you, and no matter how important the reason, causing a friend pain tended to be one.

"Not quite," his chief surgeon shook his head. "I need to see to the ribs, and there has been other fractures, they have healed better, but I want to bind them and ease the strain of them."

"Go on then," Duncan gestured with his hand. The sooner it was over the better. Pauline was talking softly to the young Ranger, soothing tones to keep him calm. The tone of voice more important than what she said.

Binding the ribs the man secured his arm more securely to his chest. He had used long splints on the broken leg, making it virtually impossible for the youth to move it at all. It would be horribly awkward and uncomfortable, but it was important for the limb to heal properly.

"See here," he indicated a spot on the top of his other foot where Duncan could see something of a lump. "They broke the bones here, fortunately they are still aligned, but strained. If left unchecked, he could develop later problems."

"Can you do something about it?" Halt demanded. He had not even thought to check those bones, and now felt nauseas. His mistake could still cost his boy so much.

"Fortunately, yes," he confirmed. He took a thin slate of wood, oval in shape, and just a little larger than the bottom of the foot. With a folded piece of linen for padding he placed it against his foot, using lengths of linen bandage to secure it in place. Halt watching, had to approve. With the linen bandage securing the support, there would be less strain on the bones and they would be left to heal in peace.

"The drug I gave him won't work for much longer, it's not really meant for this," Pauline cautioned them. It was meant to render someone unconscious long enough to make your escape, change a couple of documents in a cabinet or secure someone better. There had been no need to worry about the aftereffects, such as nausea. The multitude of times she had used it in the line of duty she had never really felt any sympathy for any of her victims. They were all enemies of the kingdom, or criminals. They were not people she worried about.

With Gilan twisting on the bed, moaning even in his semi unconscious state she sat on the mattress to sooth him.

"I'm almost through," quickly the surgeon grabbed another roll of bandage. "The stitches you put in looks good," he mused as he worked. "Most of them are about ready to come out, but we'd better do that later. That shouldn't bother him too much."

"It won't," Halt agreed.

"Alright," assuring himself that the bandage was secure, the surgeon stepped back, offering a small smile. "That's all I can do for now. I'll let you take care of him. Probably best if he gets some quiet when he wakes. Lads his age don't tend to want too many witness around when they're feeling a bit queasy."

"Too bad, he'll just have to deal with it," Halt certainly had no intention of moving. He wasn't leaving his apprentice, and he knew neither would Pauline or Crowley. The boy might be embarrassed, but he felt it would take a while for the embarrassment to win over the misery.

"I'm probably the one he won't want to see him that way," Duncan mused, straightening. He felt utterly drained. "I think I might be more useful if I went down to the kitchen and made sure they had some suitable food for him. Broth might be best?" he gave Pauline a questioning look.

"Broth," she agreed. "At least for today. We need to get real food into him, and we need to do it soon, but he'll suffer an upset stomach for a bit."

"Chicken broth," Duncan nodded to himself. "Perhaps just a little bread to soak it up. I'll see to it," nodding to them he followed his chief surgeon out of the room.

"That's how I know we did the right thing back then," Crowley mused. "He's more interested in the lad's welfare than in any bowing or scraping."

"He's a good King," Halt agreed. "There are a lot of them that are worse."

"There sure are," Crowley confirmed. "Ah, here we go," the last was added with a wry smile as Gilan tossed and groaned, then a fraction of a second after his eyes opened, he turned his head and retched.

Pauline had been expecting it, and got a bowl under him just in time, smoothing his hair down and out of the way. "There, just take it easy," she urged. "Don't fight it, as soon as it's over, I got some tea for you. It'll help, trust me."

Gilan managed a faint squawk of misery, and she hummed softly and tunelessly. A soothing sound Halt mused.

Once the boy had emptied his stomach of its meagre contents she took a cloth and a bowl of water to clean his face off. "There, how does that feel?"

"Not good," he mumbled, squinting against the light that seemed to hurt his eyes.

"The tea will help," rising she tested the temperature and the strength of the brew, mixing in a little honey. The taste would be familiar to him and comforting. With Halt's insistence of always taking honey in his coffee, and that his apprentices did the same, honey was a flavour Gilan always seemed to find comfort in. She helped him raise his head to drink, knowing how terrible he must be feeling from how he did not object at all, but drank every drop she offered him.

"There, rest now" putting the mug down when it was empty she smoothed his hair down. "Rest Gilan, I'll be here to keep an eye on you. If you can sleep a little, you'll feel better for it."

"Okay," better sounded like a pipedream, but even so he desired it. Everything hurt, his stomach was rolling even with the tea, and he felt as if someone was beating on his leg and arm with clubs.

He knew the feeling very well, it was how they had been broken after all…

Pauline waited until his breathing evened out before she turned to face her husband and friend. "He should sleep a little, he has no reserve left."

Crowley nodded as he stood. "I think I'll go into the dungeon, I think it's about time I asked that Thomas some hard questions."

"Do you think he will tell you anything?" she had not yet seen the leader of the gang, but from what Halt had told her, she was not certain if it would be much use.

"No, but at the moment watching him suffer is the only thing I can think of that will make me feel any better," he decided.

"Make sure he knows it," Pauline advised coldly. She should disapprove, but she did not. Not when her boy was in so much pain. Gilan and Will, they were both hers in a way. Both of them needed her, just as they needed Halt, but only one of them seemed to realize it.

Halt hadn't said anything, but the pained look on his face as he watched his former apprentice spoke volumes. He would need an outlet soon she mused, but for now, he needed to stay where he was, where he could care for his apprentice.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…