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 42

Halt didn't bother with niceties as he entered Gilan's room and sat down on the chair. They had all talked about how to handle the situation, and he had to admit that they all had some good ideas. Patience was needed, they could not expect to only have to tell him once. Given the endless number of beatings, the broken bones he had been given, it would take more than so. No matter how strong Gilan was, no one could withstand that kind of torture. It was torture, plain and simple, and they had attacked him at his weakest point.

Even if he begged, he was not always granted food, and he was forced repeatedly to say that he was worthless and that Halt would be glad to be rid of him.

It had struck him, that perhaps the man had known there was a chance Gilan would get away from them. Or, he had all the while meant to return him, but so utterly broken he had no hope of any life left. He wanted revenge on Halt after all, and mentally breaking his apprentice to that point would really have hurt him. The thought of Gilan, not only unable to function as a Ranger again, but perhaps as anything at all on his own. Reliant on others for the rest of his life, that seemed worse than a swift death in the line of duty. It was possible that had been his plan, and that if Halt and Crowley had not found him, Gilan would at some point have been dumped on their doorstep.

It would have been just like that kind of scum to do that, and there would have been nothing Halt could have done about it.

Now he waited until Gilan looked at him, "when they took Will, I was so close I saw them. They were within range, and there was still nothing I could do with them on that boat," he started. "I was that close, and yet totally useless, all I could do was stand and shout at him to stay alive, that I would find him. As long as he stayed alive. And I could only hope he knew I meant it. You know I did." It was not a question, but Gilan nodded. He remembered it well Halt mused. How Halt had basically committed treason to be banished, Gilan had wanted to go with him, had practically begged, but Halt had made him stay behind. They could not both go, Crowley needed them. One gone was bad enough, and Will was Halt's responsibility. He knew Gilan had been tore up about it back then, and he had hoped he would come to terms with it. It wasn't his fault. Even if he was a full Ranger, he did not have Halt's experience, and though he was responsible and competent, he had never had an apprentice before. There were a hundred small things that all factored into the outcome, but Gilan had acted the best he knew how, and Halt had never felt even a moment's resentment towards him for it.

"I told him to stay alive, because I would not give up before I found him, and that is all I ever wanted from you," he stated firmly. "To stay alive. I don't care if you begged, or what you were forced to say. It's a powerplay from the lowest kind of scum there is. He thought if he made you do that, he would get power over you, and over me. He wanted you to do that, to get to me, and I'm sorry Gilan. I never wanted you to have to pay for what I've done. But the only thing I ever want from you is to stay alive. Do you see that? If you have to beg, steal or lie for it, even if they force you to degrade yourself, as long as it keeps you alive, that's what's important."

"It's not that easy," Gilan mumbled, eyes downcast.

"I know it's not, if it was, there would have been no point in them doing it to you," Halt agreed. "They did it because it works. They knew you were dangerous, they knew I trained you, and they would know that made you one of our best. They were scared of you, and they wanted to get back at me. They are cowards, the worst kind, and I can't change what they did. But you stayed alive Gilan, you were stronger than they thought."

"I didn't feel strong," Gilan muttered, almost sullen.

"I know, because your honour wouldn't let you," Halt shook his head with a fond smile. "That knight code of honour and nobility is going to get you every time. It's all fine and well when your opponent has the same fool notion, but against scum like that, you can't afford it Gilan. It will hurt you."

"You made that clear my first week," Gilan still sounded a bit sullen Halt mused. He had been drilled about the honour code for about fourteen years when Halt got his hands on him. It wasn't something that was easy to put behind you.

"I did, and you did a good job of adjusting, but you still think you have to hold yourself to that code," Halt shrugged. "And sometimes you can, and I don't mind if you do. Like I said, it only works if your opponent does it to, but if you both agree, then I suppose it's not such a bad thing. But you need to put it aside when it does not work. You did what you had to do to survive, and there is no shame in that. I'm proud of you."

Gilan looked at him, surprised at his last words.

"I mean that, it's not always an easy thing to do, but you hung on, you gave us a chance to figure it out and find you, I'm proud of you Gilan, always have been."

Silent, Gilan looked at him with large eyes, as if he was surprised to hear those words. Before, he wouldn't have been, even if such praise from Halt was rare, he had always been confident Gilan knew.

Reaching out his hand Halt clasped his wrist lightly. "I got myself banished and went to Skandia for Will, I would have gone further if I had to, and I would do no less for you."

Slowly Gilan nodded, barely noticeable, but Halt was confident the boy was hearing him. Gilan was a clever lad. He had done a good job of adapting the knight's code to suit his occupation as a Ranger.

"Arald was pretty happy with you, for given your opponent a chance to surrender when I first started training you," Halt mused.

"You weren't," Gilan managed a faint smile. "You made me do punishment work for weeks."

"Because that poacher didn't care any about the code, and you nearly got your head split open by an axe, do you have any idea what your father would have done to me for that?" Halt shook his head. The boy had given him the fright of his life, standing calmly, sword held relaxed and point down as the man rushed him. A poacher who had been taking deer in the forest around Redmont. Halt had thought it was a good easy mission to start Gilan on, he knew he was well trained and would not panic. He had not counted on the boy attempting to challenge the poacher. He would bet the man recognized him, and had gone for Gilan as he saw how young he was and assumed he was weaker. In the end, Gilan's training had prevailed. He had allowed the man to rush him, while demanding he gave up, and the neatly sidestepped. Pivoting on one foot as the man stumbled past him. Gilan had struck him over the rear with the flat of his sword, turning an angry poacher into a raging mad humiliated poacher who wanted to kill the boy no matter what it took. At that point, Halt was close enough to put an arrow in him. He had to say one thing about Gilan, the arrow past just a few inches from him and he didn't even flinch, nor did he turn to look at Halt, he kept his eyes on his opponent and made sure he was down. Holding the sword to his throat, he took the axe and a large hunting knife from him.

If Halt had been angry it was because he had been terrified Gilan would get himself killed. He had a bow, but didn't use it. At that time, instinct still led him to relay on the sword even when he should have used the bow. The look of satisfaction on his face had however quickly faded as Halt didn't wait before he lectured him, and he had indeed put the boy to any amount of punishment work he could think of.

Including emptying the water barrel back into the stream, only to fill it again. "At least it worked," he mused. "You never did that again."

"When you've been trained to do something for five years and more, it takes a bit of time to change it," Gilan shrugged, biting back a wince. "Besides, I was concerned if I used the bow I might miss, and he would be too close to me for me to do anything then. I hadn't trained that long with the bow after all, and only at stationary targets."

"That's actually a better reason than you gave me back then," Halt mused. "If you had said that, I might have let you off a little easier."

"You told me you didn't want to hear any reason," Gilan shrugged again, wincing and sighing. "Gotta stop doing that…"

"Even so, you could have told me," it was true he realized, at the time he hadn't been much in the mood for listening to reason. "I just might have gone a bit easier on you."

"I needed to get better, hauling the same water back and forth was a pretty good incentive," this time he caught himself just before he shrugged and gave a slight smile.

"It was meant to be," Halt gave him a warm smile. "You were pretty smart, made it easier to train you. You knew why I was hard on you at times."

Gilan snorted and Halt raised an eyebrow, "you don't agree?"

"I was raised in Battleschool, I didn't know what anything else was. We had to run for miles with full gear if our bed wasn't made neat enough," Gilan stated. "I always thought that was a bit unfair, I had to run to, and for the first few years, I didn't even sleep in the barrack…"

"Singling you out probably wouldn't have been doing you any favour though," Halt mused. "They might not have liked that."

"Fifteen year old Battleschool cadets who regularly got beaten by a nine year old might get upset I wasn't running the course?" Gilan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, put that way," Halt had to agree.

"It's supposed to build character, and stamina," Gilan mused. "At least, that's what they told us."

"Probably was true, seeing as we've already established I did much the same thing to you," Halt gave his former apprentice a half glare. "But it would have been a lot more fun doing it to you if you had complained a bit now and again."

"I knew why, never saw much reason in complaining," Gilan fidgeted a little, the small furrow in his brow deepening as it always did when he was deep in thought. "The ideas for all of it, was it things Pritchard did to you?"

Halt was almost surprised about the question, Will would ask about such things, but Gilan usually did not. Gilan however had been with his father at the tournament at Gorlan, just as he had been with him at Hakcham Heath. Even if he hadn't met Pritchard he knew about the Ranger who had been murdered when Morgarath escaped the castle. He also knew the loss was very painful for both Halt and Crowley and therefor never asked much about it. The fact that he did now, Halt thought was because he was still badly affected of what had happened to him. He needed reassurance, in more ways than one.

"I didn't have the traditional training," he reminded his former apprentice. "But he did use some of the traditional methods. Some Crowley has told me about, and I listened to the rest of them telling me the worst stories they remembered from their own apprentice ships."

"Where did the throwing into a river come from?"

"Pritchard," Halt smiled easily. "He was a good man." He would have known what to do, he figured, but then he always thought Pritchard would have known what to do. Perhaps that was not entirely true, but it was nice to imagine. Without Pritchard, his life would have been very different, and he owed the now dead Ranger a debt he felt he could never repay. Perhaps, he recognised that feeling now in Gilan, the feeling that your mentor could always fix everything that was wrong. "You got your head on straight now?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm not, I mean," Gilan broke off, then sighed. "Getting there I think."

"Can't ask for too much I suppose," Halt shrugged. "But you remember that, the only thing I want from you in a situation like that is that you survive."

Meeting his eye, Gilan nodded slowly.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…