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 9

Gilan was led up to the Baron's study, where Howard, Hollard and Hannard waited with a man Gilan took to be their father. All three of them had bruises all over their hands, Hannard a few on his face, and when he leapt to his feet, he hurriedly sat down after a squeal of pain. "It was him, he was the one who done it, that's the poacher we told you about!" he cried. "Look, he's still got the sword, we told you he had stolen it!"

"This is Gilan, he's a Ranger's apprentice, not a poacher," Arald was sat behind his desk, looking quite grim. "Gilan, we had some trouble here this morning, an act of intrusion so to say."

"Want me to see what I can do about it?" Gilan asked cheerfully. "Halt didn't want me to try handle anything much while he was away, but I can certainly see if I can find some tracks."

"My sons had their chambers broken into this morning, and the culprit filled their room with vicious crayfish!" the older man snapped.

"Crayfish?" Gilan blinked.

"It would seem so," Arald nodded. "They seem to think you would be responsible for it."

"Me?" Gilan frowned. "I don't have any crayfish, and if I did, I don't know I'd waste them."

"They are quite delicious, aren't they," Arald nodded.

"It was you, admit it!" Howard leapt to his feet, and gave a yelp. "You did it, we know it was you! Just as you stole that sword you got, look at him father, he still has it."

"Gilan did not steal that sword," Arald stated in a hard voice. "That sword was given to him by his father, a fact I know very well."

"It was still him, he did it to get revenge on us," Hollard cried.

"Whyever would he want revenge on you?" finally Lionel frowned as he regarded his three sons.

"Because we caught him poaching," Howard tried uncertainly. "Yeah, that's it, we caught him when he had been poaching. That was why we took the fish from him, because he had no right to it."

"Poaching?" Lionel frowned. "You boys told me you had caught the fish, not taken it from anyone poaching."

"And as there is no law against fishing, it would not be poaching," Arald put in.

"It was still him, father, he did this to us," Hannard waved a bruised hand in the air.

"Yes, yes, let's see about this," Lionel took his eyes from his sons. "Did you enter through the door to my sons chambers tonight?"

"No sir, I did not," though he was glad the question had been phrased that way. It would have been more awkward if he had been asked if he had at all been in their room.

"Did you not say the door was locked?" Arald asked, carefully avoiding looking at Gilan. For a moment, he had actually wondered if the boy wasn't innocent. After all, he could not fathom how anyone could have got all the way up to their chambers, not to mention managed the locked door. Looking at him though, he knew that somehow the boy had managed it. How, he could not ask now, but it was evident he had.

"Yes, of course we locked it," Howard burst out.

"So, you mean to tell me that you still blame Gilan, for having managed to get into a locked chamber?" Arald shook his head. "I find that very hard to believe."

"It does sound strange," Lionel admitted. "Yet I do not see what else to think."

"He's a peasant, and we're the sons of a knight, you can't take his word over ours. We know it was him!" Howard raged. "We want him punished!"

"My father is a knight as well, so I should say my word is worth as much as yours," Gilan stated. "Though I rather I was trusted by the worth of my own word and not my father's name."

"Your father is a knight?" Lionel blinked.

"That is the truth," Arald confirmed. "I know his father very well, Gilan's word is good. He has never shown anything but honour."

"Then I don't know what to make of it, someone attacked my sons, if it was not you, then who?" Lionel shook his head. "This is not good, Baron, I brought my sons here thinking they'd be safe with me. I can't tolerate this."

"It was him, and I'll get him!" Hannard had his hand on his sword and had bared an inch of the blade when Arald slammed his hand down on his desk.

"I will not have a blade drawn in my office!" he roared, and he was an imposing man when he chose to do so. Large, and muscular if his waistline was a bit generous.

"Hannard," Lionel fixed his son with a hard look.

"But it was him, I know it," the boy whined, sheeting his sword again.

"If you wish to settle the matter by swords, I'd be happy to oblige you," Gilan decided. "But I will not have it done here, I suggest practice swords, to avoid serious injury, and I'd be glad to meet all three of you."

Arald shone up, in truth, he had to bite his tongue to keep from bursting out laughing. "I think that is an excellent idea, what do you say Sir Lionel, will it satisfy you?"

"Do you have any idea of how to use that?" Lionel frowned as he looked at the boy, he was tall, but looked much younger and lankier than his own sons. "My sons are all well trained."

"I am the son of a knight, and as such, it is my right to defend my honour," Gilan stated.

"Then I suppose it will do," Lionel nodded. Such a duel was a time honoured way of determining a solution to disputes such as this. Though he did not see how the boy could be guilty of the crime, so thin as he was he could hardly have carried such a load up the castle stairs. That the door had been locked from the inside complicated matters, and though he could not see his own sons at fault, it was a strange situation.

"We might as well, have it over with then," standing Arald took his own sword from his desk and strapped it on. He smiled to himself as the three bullies went down the stairs, no doubt feeling some pain as they made their way down the stone steps. Yet at times in their excitement to get at Gilan they seemed to forget this.

At the Battleschool four practice swords were soon procured, and Sir Rodney and Sir Wallace was called to bear further witness.

Removing his own sword, Gilan handed it over to Rodney, noting none of the three did the same. Shaking his head lightly he made a test swing with the practice sword and was satisfied. He stood with it, tip down, waiting for Howard to do the same. As the eldest, he had claimed the right to start, and Hannard was glaring daggers. He had wanted the honour and he would be one to watch Gilan mused.

Howard tried to catch him unawares, attacking suddenly before the duel had officially started, though this he had expected. Taking a step back, he swayed to one side, and the blade went past by him. Howard, who'd put all his weight behind the strike was unbalanced and nearly fell. Behind them, Arald grit his teeth at the cowardly attack, putting his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. Meeting the eyes of his friends as they noted the detestable behaviour.

Howard had regained his balance and lunged again, this time Gilan's sword flicked upward and Howard's blade was deflected to pass harmlessly by him again.

"Coward!" the young man bellowed.

Gilan ignored it, seeming perfectly relaxed as he lowered his blade in wait for his opponent to regain his balance once more. Once he had, and struck again, his sword flicked upwards and deflected the strike to his other side. Stepping to the side as the man stumbled past him.

"Stand still and fight you damn coward!" Howard didn't wait until he had regained his balance fully this time. Lashing out in a series of fast strikes that were meant to overwhelm his opponent. Though Gilan's sword seemed to fly to meet each one. Flicking back and forth as he deflected each strike, calmly and with easy measured movements.

"Coward, like you when you threw a rock at me and then put a sword at my neck, all so you could relieve me of my fish?" he queried.

"Yes, damnit!" Howard raged and Gilan could have cheered. It was an outright admission to what they had done, better than he dared hope for.

"And when you lay in wait to ambush me, doing the same and threatening me if I did not get you more fish?" He parried an overhand stroke, and deflected the next.

"We were only teaching you a lesson, you poaching peasant!" Howard raged as Gilan's sword once more seemed to leap to intercept his own. He was unable to find any opening at all in his defence. For a brief second he thought he had the advantage as the young Ranger's apprentice stepped back. With a roar he pushed forward, only to find that Gilan moved his wrist in a tight little circle, that seemed to tear the practice sword right out of Howards grasp.

Stepping out of the way as it flew past him, Rodney bent to pick it up, turning to face the middle one of the brothers. "It would seem it's your turn…"

Having seen how badly his brother fared, Hollard approached with extreme caution. After a few cautious steps with the practice sword in front of him he seemed to have overcome his hesitation and tried to overpower his smaller opponent by force. Rushing forward and bringing down the sword as hard as he could, only to find that Gilan had simple shifted out of the way. He was too fearful of his opponents surprising skill that he did not dare to commit himself fully, and Gilan had soon disarmed him.

At this point Hannard tried to rush him, never waiting for Rodney to give him leave, but this Gilan had been ready for and his practice sword flicked up to intercept it with no apparent effort. Hannard backed off, and came back slightly from the side, so that Gilan had to turn his back towards the spectators. They were losing, and they did not like it, Hannard aimed a kick for his thigh that he could not avoid fully, but managed to twist to lessen the impact off. When his opponent grinned, he knew what was coming, and stepped forward to intercept another thrust.

Behind him, mere inches from the back of his head there came the hard and heavy ring of steel on steel. A shriek as the bare blade slid along another, and then a meaty thud. Gilan flicked his wrist again, tearing the sword from Hannard's hand, bringing it down to the ground where he put his foot down on it, raising his own practice sword and holding it towards his opponent to discourage him from throwing a fist.

Satisfied that Hannard seemed to stun to act, he quickly stepped back out of reach.

Turning with a hint of a smile on his face as he saw the scene behind him. Hollard was standing dumbstruck, beside him on the ground Howard was sprawled, blood pouring from his nose. His sword lay on the ground beside him, and Arald had his own drawn and pointed towards the young man while Sir Lionel looked in absolute horror at his son.

When Gilan's back was turned, Howard had drawn his real and rather sharp sword and had tried to strike him from behind. Arald, seeing him move, had proven that he was a very capable swordsman in his own right. After blocking the strike, he had used his fist to subdue the cowardly bully.

"My God…" Sir Lionel could only shake his head, stunned. "My God…"

"I thought one of them might try something like that," Arald mused as he looked to Gilan. "I had thought you would as well…?" there was a question in his eyes, but Gilan shrugged.

"Actually I was pretty sure of it, but with you here, not to mention Sir Rodney and Sir Wallace, I did not see how either of them could possibly succeed…"

"I suppose you didn't at that," Arald mused. It took steady nerves to leave his back exposed to that crowd, and it was humbling how deeply Gilan trusted them. "Sir Lionel, I assume you are satisfied?"

"What?" he blinked. "Oh yes, my God, I never thought one of them could do such a thing. I always thought they acted with honour. They've always told me they have, I never thought they'd do such a cowardly thing as that…" Swallowing he turned to face Gilan. "It seems I owe you an apology, and by God, I'm sorry about this. I never thought they would act in such a way. I don't know who put the crayfish in their chamber, but it would seem that person might very well have been justified…"

"I think so sir," Gilan nodded. "Judging by how they dealt with me."

"For my sons behaviour, I am sorry," he swallowed.

"Your sons are answerable for their own behaviour, I will not hold it against you," Gilan shrugged.

"It would seem you are much more honourable than they are, and I thank you," sir Lionel sighed. "It would seem I have been much in error lately, my Lord," he turned to the Baron. "I can only beg you can look beyond this, and we can talk in earnest. I think, to some extent I have not been much better than my sons. Perhaps I have not paid attention to what I should."

"We all make our mistakes," Arald offered. It had been difficult with Sir Lionel always digging his heels in, hanging on to stubborn pride and refusing to yield, now that he was allowing himself to be swayed, it was time to show him some consideration and graciousness. "Even if you are satisfied in regards to young Gilan here, I will look into the matter with the crayfish, and when I find the guilty party, I will take appropriate measures."

"I can not ask that of you during the circumstances," Sir Lionel swallowed. "As it stands now, whomever so did it, might very well have just cause."

"That might very well be, but even so, I'll look into it, if for no other reason than to satisfy my own curiosity," Arald shrugged.

"What do you wish to do about my sons?" Sir Lionel asked.

"If I have your word they will cause no further trouble, and if that satisfies Gilan, I won't do anything," Arald decided. "They may stay with you, but I'm afraid I must caution you that if they cause any further trouble I will have to act."

"Yes, yes of course," Sir Lionel nodded.

"And you Gilan?" Arald turned to the boy.

"I consider my quarrel with them settled," he shrugged. "But if I may, perhaps some proper disciplined training for them? Their form is horrible," he wrinkled his nose as if in disgust over how poorly they hand handled their practice swords.

"Perhaps I should," Sir Lionel mused, watching his three sons where they cowered. "It might not be a bad idea," he eyed Gilan. Looking at him, he never would have thought him able to best his sons, but then he had always believed the three when they said they were highly skilled. "Have you trained here?"

"Gilan was trained first by his own father, then by MacNeil," Rodney spoke up, watching the look of amazement that crossed over Lionel's face.

"If my sons troubled you before, you could have defeated them as easily as you did now, may I ask why you did not?" Lionel asked.

"I wasn't certain they were good enough that I could have done so without risk injuring them. I did not think the grievance worth it," he shrugged.

"I thank you for the consideration," Lionel inclined his head to him. "I see now they would never have given you the same. If I may, I would take my leave, I need to think of what to do with them," he turned to the three of them. "And you three shall return to your chambers until I have made my decisions…"

With shoulders slumped, he led the way for his sons back towards the castle. Watching them go Gilan started wiping off his practice sword with a shrug. It had gone better than he had dared to hope for, so far….

TBC

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