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 27

It was a long night, and as the sun slowly started creeping over the horizon Crowley found himself glaring at it. He wasn't in the mood for anything looking so cheerful right then…

There had been two escape attempts by their captives who thought their vigilance would lessen in the darkness. Both had been thwarted quickly, one by Crowley pointedly clearing his throat, proving he was very well aware of what they were doing.

The second time he had been rather tiered of them, and possibly a little cranky from lack of sleep. As he caught Thomas trying to reach for a stick from the fire, to burn the ropes that tied them no doubt, he sent an arrow into his hand. As a warning it was very effective. His screams however had woken Gilan, who when he found himself in a world of pain, with the howling of the leader close by, had been thrown into a fit of panic.

Calming him to the point where the crying and thrashing was reduced to the occasional moan and whimper had taken a long time, and Crowley felt terrible about it. His action had been justified, but he hadn't realized how it would affect Gilan, and that made him feel awful.

Finally, the youth drifted off into a dazed slumber, and Halt kept an arm tightly around him while Crowley took up his sentry post again. He knew he wouldn't get any real sleep. They couldn't shift Gilan back and forth between them, not the shape he was in. He needed to know he was safe with them, and Halt was the one who really made him feel the most safe.

He was just about to mutter a few choice curses at the offending sunshine glare when he noted Halt standing beside him. He had partially tuned Halt and Gilan out as he kept watch, wanting his full attention to be where it was needed the most.

"Get some sleep," Halt nodded over his shoulder where Gilan lay on the makeshift bed. "Keep an eye on him while I make us something to eat.

"I'm good," though he was bleary eyed and tiered, and cranky, that rather deserved to be mentioned twice he mused. He really felt a bit cranky.

"He's asleep, and I don't want to wake him. We won't be able to move before he wakes anyway. You might as well catch an hour or so," he shrugged.

It was tempting, so very tempting, and with something of a grin Crowley nodded. Unstringing his bow he took it with him and laid it beside him. Halt handed him his cloak, since his own was still wrapped around Gilan to help keep him warm. The young man didn't even stir as Crowley laid down next to him.

With the ease of someone long since used to sleeping when he was afforded, Crowley fell asleep instantly.

He woke just as easily when Halt touched his shoulder, squinting at the bright light that showed he had slept a little more than an hour. "Thanks," he felt much better able to deal with the world now than he had as he laid down. He could also smell coffee and bacon, which did wonders to brighten his mood.

Before he even contemplated eating though he glanced beside him and noted the young man was still asleep, face tucked into Crowley's side and he knew he'd have to be careful when he sat or he'd wake him.

Gently extracting himself, leaving Halt's cloak firmly wrapped around him he slowly sat up, brushing a hand over a gaunt cheek as the young man whimpered softly in his sleep. He was almost amazed that it worked, given how he had been treated the whole time he was captive. Yet it was possible that he knew the difference between a caring touch, and a hurtful one. He certainly hadn't been given any of the former lately.

Halt handed him a mug of coffee, and a plate heaped with bacon, bread and some stew. A breakfast as good as any in Crowley's man, the other man squatting down on his haunches beside him. "If we fix up the wagon, we can tie that crew up to walk after it," he stated softly. "But one will have to drive, and one will have to keep an eye on them…"

"Yeah," Crowley nodded, they could not afford to let any of them try anything. With two of them, they were just a little short handed since someone needed to keep an eye on Gilan as well. "I say we leave the thumb cuffs on them, and shackle them, that should keep them from getting any ideas."

"If we let them walk behind the wagon, one can ride in it with Gilan, and still keep a pretty good eye on them, but we won't be able to move very fast," Halt stated. "And we don't have a lot of food. Enough for us, but not enough for us and them, and there won't be any way we can hunt. We might be able to set a few snares, but nothing else."

"I take it they don't have a lot?" Crowley nodded to the packs laying about the camp.

"Food no, stolen property they got, we'll leave that with the Baron and he can arrange for it to be sent to Duncan," Halt shrugged. "Some they might be able to figure out where it came from, the rest will just have to go into the treasury, it'll at least do some good there."

"Duncan will make sure of it," Crowley agreed. The King would most likely use it to support widows and orphans, he was a good king, fair. He knew to care for the people he was in charge of. He tucked into the food eagerly, they would want to be on their way as quickly as possible, and he did not know when that would be. Halt had clearly kept himself busy as he slept, but there was only so much he could do while keeping an eye on their captives, as soon as he had eaten, Crowley set about taking care of the rest.

Gilan had started to toss uneasily in his sleep, mumbling and moaning in his sleep.

Taking a bowl, Halt poured broth from their pot into it, he hadn't made a lot, knowing that the injured Ranger wouldn't take it easily. Pouring a little of the brandy wine into it he stirred the mixture and took some of the camp bread he had made.

Gently raising the young man to lean against him he smiled softly as hazy eyes opened. "Good morning," it wasn't really a very encouraging thing to say, but he didn't have much else to offer.

"Is?" apparently Gilan agreed with him, for he sounded very doubtful.

"I got you back," the way Halt saw it, it did not get better than that. "I got you back Gil…" He allowed himself to brush a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the cut under his eye. I had at least started to close, unlike the open swollen mess it had been before. The salve seemed to be helping but they would need to tend to him again before they could start on their way. Try to get him at least partially dressed, which they hadn't been able to do the night before. "I have some broth here, with brandy wine, take as much as you can, it'll help."

"No," he closed his eye, leaning into Halt. Obviously still not in the mood for trying something like it.

"Come on, try," Halt urged. He was not really surprised. Gilan had always been much like this. He had been raised as a knight, to know his duty above all else, and even if ill or injured he would struggle on until he had nothing left to give. If given the chance though, he much preferred to just curl up where it was warm and wanted to be left alone until he got better. He never had been much for seeking out attention, comfort he would lap up, but not much for attention. He didn't have too much faith in the wonders of medicine either, which really wasn't very surprising the way Halt saw it. For him it had never been a problem, for Gilan trusted him unquestioningly.

"If you don't, you know how Crowley will get," he urged. "He'd get on about that 'little bird' thing again, and if he does, I'd probably have to shoot him," he added seriously. That drew a faint smile from the young man. As much as he was able to smile with a swollen knot on one side of his stubbled jaw. It was more like a short ragged beard than stubble by now, and he knew Gilan hated it. He was one of the few Ranger's he knew who preferred to be clean shaven, though in truth Halt appreciated it. So many of the Ranger's wore beards, and he knew that was part of the reason Will wore a beard. Because he himself did, as did Crowley and most of them. Gilan however had made the choice based on what he preferred himself.

There was nothing to be done about it though, he might trim his own beard and hair with his saxe knife, but he wasn't about to try and shave Gilan with it. Not with the shape the boy was in.

Growing serious he gently chafed a calloused thumb over his cheek again, with Gilan, honesty had always been the best course of action. "I know it hurts, and that it will only get worse for a bit. We have to take you back, and we can't do that without it hurting… I understand that being conscious isn't exactly what you want now, but we don't have a choice. We need to get you back so we can take care of you, and that means you have to eat so that you're strong enough for it. If you eat, we can give you more of the brandy wine, it'll help some. But as weak as you are now, we can't do a lot." Gilan seemed to ponder it, his hazy eyes drifting close for a moment.

Then he nodded slowly, he knew what Halt was saying and he knew it was the truth. He'd have to allow himself to be drawn into a world of more consciousness and pain if he wanted it to eventually get better.

Halt gave him several spoonful's, soaking bits of bread in the broth as well, allowing them to turn into a mush in his mouth that he was at least able to swallow. There were a few swallows left in the bowl when he turned his head away, but it was better than Halt had thought he would do so he was quite pleased. Noting he was drifting off he eased him down. He could sleep for a bit while he and Crowley got everything prepared.

Crowley had certainly not been idle, the wagon was mostly loaded. There wasn't much room in it, but since none of their captives would be riding, they could use their horses to take much of the stolen goods. He had focused on making a soft bedding in the back of the wagon. Pine boughs with a heap of leaves, the ground tarp from his own small tent and both his and Halt's blankets. They might be a bit chilly on the way back, but he felt it was more important that Gilan was as comfortable as possible.

"I gave them some bread and a bit of water," he nodded to their captives. "As soon as Gilan is ready, we can leave."

Glancing at the sky Halt noted how long it had been already. With tending to the wounds, and getting him dressed, it would be at least another hour before they could be on their way. Which meant they wouldn't get very far before they had to stop at luncheon. "We won't get very many miles," he mused. "Once we get started, we had better keep going until we make camp for the night. We can take a few breaks for the horses, but not much."

"I agree," Crowley nodded. "And I hate to wake him, but we need to get this over with, and I don't want him to wake up and panic."

"I know," Halt nodded, tapping his cheek gently again. "Gil, I need you to wake up a little."

He obviously hadn't been very deeply asleep, for he opened his eyes almost instantly, making a weak objection, but otherwise allowing the two older Rangers to do as they wanted. He moaned as they got socks on his feet and pulled the pants on. The shirt was harder, as he cried out when he was moved, but they slipped his good hand through the sleeve, and threaded the shirt over his head, allowing it to sit over the arm strapped to his wrapped chest.

The whole thing had left Gilan drained, and they had to give him a moments rest before settling him into the wagon.

As Thomas once more tried to use insults and harassment to get under their skin, Halt had gagged him, none to gently. It did give him a feeling of pleased satisfaction, and the rest of them seemed to have realized that if they wanted to reach their due punishment alive, they had better not give the Ranger's any trouble.

Soon Halt had settled in the back of the wagon beside Gilan's pallet, keeping an eye on his former apprentice and their captives alike while Crowley manoeuvred the wagon down the road.

Their captives were walking along after the wagon, fitted with thumb cuffs and with their ankles tied together with a long piece of rope. Their horses were loaded and walking along tied to the wagon as well, while Abelard and Cropper were unsaddled and unloaded, walking freely with no need to be tied.

Abelard, no doubt knowing Halt's mood and the cause of it had taken a habit of falling behind somewhat, and dealing a quick bite to any of the captives that made a fuss or in any way annoyed him.

Watching him, Halt grinned, "we'll have to make sure you clean your mouth out first, but I should see if I can't find you an apple next we stop."

The horse, looked at him, a smile on his face.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…