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 the story is 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 2

It was with reluctant steps that Gilan walked up to the small cabin in the woods. On the way, he had made a few attempts to lose the snakes. Running ahead, but they continued on as fast as they were able. Following his scent no doubt, tiny forked tongues flickering as they tasted the air. He had leapt over a creek, but most of them simply swam over after him. One of them didn't seem to have got the hang of it though, and Gilan worried the baby adder would drown, hurriedly rescued it.

For once he didn't bound up the front steps with his usual enthusiasm, but walked up them slowly and pushed the door open.

"You're late, did you get the preserve?" Halt looked up from the reports he was reading.

"Not right now, I have to go back for it," Gilan admitted.

"Prey tell me, why?" Halt raised an eyebrow.

"When I got to the kitchen, there was an adder there. Most of the kitchen maids were pretty upset by it, it was in one of the pots," Gilan mused as he heard a faint rustle behind him on the steps.

"An adder in the kitchen would tend to make kitchen maids very upset…" Halt mused dryly.

"Master Chubb said he'd make me a turkey pie if I got rid of it, so I did," he decided. "I would have either way, it couldn't stay in there, and it's not like I figured it to be much of a problem, but well, I can't say I'd mind a pie either."

"So where's the pie?" Halt folded his arms across his chest. It was rare that Gilan was so reluctant to tell him what had transpired.

"I don't think he's made it yet, I'd have to go back for it at the same time as I went for the preserve," the door was open a light crack behind him, he hadn't closed it fully he realized.

"Sounds reasonable," Halt decided. A made turkey pie was always better than an un-made turkey pie. "Why don't you tell me the rest of it?"

"I figured there was no need to kill the snake, I mean, it was just an adder, they're pretty useful around the woods," Gilan mused, wondering if the slight whisper of scales on wood he thought he heard behind him was real or not.

"They are," Halt conceded.

"So I just figured I'd let it go a ways from the castle, but it was a female, and it was about to have a litter. I've never seen a snake have babies before, so I watched."

"Not always a good idea, mothers can be testy," Halt decided.

"I was careful," Gilan shrugged. Feeling the faintest nudge at the back of his boot. "She had twenty of them, but then that idiot bully, the weaver's boy came. He started yelling and raging about me being a witch that conjured up snakes, didn't even get I'd have had to have been a sorcerer, wouldn't I?"

"More plausible than a witch," Halt decided.

"He tried to kill one of the babies, by stomping it to death, wearing sandals," Gilan made a disgusted snort. "He deserved to get bit, there weren't any need to kill them, but the mother got real mad about it, and well, he killed her. Though not after he fell over and she got him in the rear," he grinned. "He really deserved it."

"I would imagine he did," Halt paid very careful attention to his grammar. He always paid very careful attention to his grammar when he was annoyed. "Now, if you would not mind, why are there three adders on my floor?"

Gilan looked down, at the three tiny snakes around his feet, "because the other seventeen haven't figured out how to get up the stairs yet?"

"Why did you think it was a good idea to bring them here?" Halt's voice was cold and hard.

"I tried not to," Gilan winced as he felt something bump into his foot from behind, watching the four small coils that moved curiously around the floor. That made it fifteen that hadn't worked out the stairs yet, and maybe, just maybe he should have closed the door when he entered… "Back in Caraway, one of the soldiers told me that infant adders follow their mother for a few days, I, I guess since she was killed, they decided to follow me…"

"Gilan," Halt's voice was perfectly calm and collected as a miniature menace hissed at him, not more than six inches from his booted foot. "Get them out of here, right now!"

"I will," Gilan hurriedly bent to start picking them up, glad that they seemed perfectly content to let him.

"If I know the weaver, he's going to be out for your blood," Halt was able to soften his tone a little as there were no longer any snakes on his floor. "You had better go explain yourself to the Baron. Before old Hambly gets there. And you can find some way to get rid of those while you're at it," he stated. Gilan had pulled his shirt out of his pants and had a bundle of entwined snakes in it. He had to admit that they seemed content enough to let him handle them, he just hoped it would last. Adder bites, as far as he knew, could get nasty. There were none in Hibernia, so this was the first time he saw one very close up.

"They keep after the mice and stuff, I'd rather not kill them unless I really had to, it really feels kind of mean when they trust me," Gilan bit his lip.

"You don't have to kill them," Halt had to admit he agreed with the sentiment. One should not kill for no reason, and they were useful in their own way. That didn't mean he wanted them all over his floor. "Take them a good distance away, that should do the trick, and for heavens sake, make sure none of them follow you into the castle! Then maybe you could find some way of bringing back that preserve?"

"I'll do my best," Gilan hunched his shoulders as he made it for the door again, making a quick head, or tail count before he started off. Halt would not be happy if he left one of them behind.

He tried to leave them in several different locations, but they continued to follow him. Knowing he needed to go to the castle, he also knew he could not take the chance of them getting inside.

If weaver Hambly got to the Baron first, it would be a lot harder to explain though, so instead of heading for the main gate, he made his way to the back of the keep. "Okay, you guys wait here," he told the litter of eagerly waggling tails and heads. "I'll be back as soon as I can, then we'll see if we can figure out what to do, okay?" Scrambling up the large oak tree he inched his way out on one of the longer limbs. It didn't stretch quite all the way across, but if one could get far enough out on it, it was possible to hang from it by your hands, and swing yourself to get enough momentum to just make it over the moat. You had to be very, very careful about the landing, or you would wind up right in the moat, and Gilan knew more than enough to want to avoid that.

He also had a lot of experience in going places by means of methods he wasn't supposed to, so he landed lightly on the other side, throwing himself forward so that there would be no chance of him falling backwards. The moat really was disgusting…

Of course, he was now on the outside of the wall, which was not quite where he wanted to be, but climbing it really was no problem. There were plenty of hand and footholds. He just hoped the adders wouldn't try to swim the moat to go after him.

Not really wanting to explain to the guards why he was climbing the wall, he quickly slipped away out of sight, and made his way through a window. Taking the servants passages until he came to the main stairwell where he quickly took the stairs two at a time until he reached the level of the Baron's office.

Martin, Baron Arald's secretary was sitting at his usual desk outside the office, so Gilan walked over to him. "I'd like a word with Baron Arald, if he's not too busy?" Martin knew well enough who he was, so there was no need for him to say much else. Martin was however a stickler for proper protocol, so it was best to be polite.

"I shall see if he can see you," the man mused as he stood. He knocked on the large oaken door, pushing it open and stepping inside. "My Lord, the Ranger's apprentice, Gilan, is here, he wishes to see if you. If you have the time to see him?"

"I know who Gilan is Martin," the disembodied voice stated. "You can send him in."

"Thank you sir," Gilan stepped passed Martin, nodding to him as he passed. You really didn't want to get on Martin's bad side, especially not for no good reason.

"Did Halt want something?" Arald asked once Gilan was in the room and the door was closed again. True to habit when he was at his desk, he had his sword laid across the desk, within easy reach of his right hand. Also within easy reach was a large bowl of sweets from the kitchen. Gilan recognized them, they were kind of soft, chewy, and made from boiling cream and syrup amongst other things. They were very good, if quite sweet.

"No sir," as a Ranger, he would be on almost equal standing with the Baron, but as an apprentice, not to mention as someone who had been raised in Battleschool he always felt it best to use a certain degree of respect. When it came to Arald, he also did it because he held great respect for the man and his abilities. "I had a minor infraction with Weaver Hambly's son," he started.

"Most people around the village has had infraction with the weaver's boy," Arald snorted. "And the other half has had them with the weaver… And I bet the third half have had them with both I think…"

"Yes sir," Gilan allowed himself a small smile. "I wouldn't bother you, but Halt and I both figured that it's only a matter of time before Weaver Hambly comes to you, about me, and well, I thought you might like to have the facts then."

"It would probably be helpful," Arald nodded. "What happened?" He would be truly surprised if Gilan was the one to blame. Hambly was a bit of a bully, and his oldest son was every bit as bad as he was. There was a younger one, and it still remained to see how that one turned out.

"Well, we were to go and get a jar of preserve from the kitchen," Gilan started. "Halt sent me, but when I got there, there was an adder in one of the pots…"

"Yes, Master Chubb told me," Arald nodded. He hadn't found it to be of any greater importance at the time since no one got bitten. "I think he said you got rid of it for him?"

"Yes sir, I would have done it at any account, but well, I have to admit I was kind of glad when he promised me some turkey pie for it. I'd never refuse to help though, an adder in there could be a real problem…"

"It certainly could," Arald nodded. He certainly knew the boy would never withhold his help for the lure of a reward, which was more than likely why Master Chubb had promised it so readily. Not to mention the fact that Chubb, like himself, was rather well rounded, and Gilan was thin as a rail, much too thin, and Chubb seemed to take some offence at this. "I know you would have helped regardless, but adders can be nasty, a pie would be the least you deserved," he mused. "And a whole pie, all to yourself, I imagine you'll enjoy that, if you can keep it away from Halt, that is…" he chuckled.

"Right now, I think I'd be lucky if I get to even smell it," Gilan mused. "Cause Halt is kind of upset with me at the moment. See, I just didn't think there was any real need to kill the adder, I got it easily enough, so I thought I'd just put it out in the woods."

"Reasonable," Arald mused. Apparently, there was a lot more to the story with the weaver's boy than he had thought. If the boy had bullied Gilan to steal his pie, Arald fully intended to have a strong word with him.

"I didn't know it was a female though, I guess it had gone into the pot cause it thought it was a good place to have her babies…" Gilan bit his lip. "She started birthing just as I took her out, I, didn't think it'd do any harm watching, but Hambly's son came and saw, and accused me of witchcraft."

"Well, he is an idiot," Arald shrugged. "And you Ranger's do have a bit of reputation for that sort of thing."

"Yes, it's quite useful at times," Gilan beamed. "The problem was, he tried to kill one of the babies by stomping on it, and he was wearing sandals…"

"And that's why I'll have Weaver Hambly in here, no doubt demanding I have you drawn and quartered," Arald chuckled. "It sounds like he had it coming."

"He did," Gilan confirmed. "But it's a bit worse, cause he fell over, and when he sat down…"

"I get the picture," Arald laughed. "I rather wish I had been there to see it. Don't worry about it. I'll make sure he don't give you any trouble. I do appreciate being informed though. No doubt he'll be in here ranting and raving, and I'll not get a word of sense out of him. It's good to know what actually has happened…."

"Yes sir, I thought you would appreciate it," Gilan nodded.

There was however one ting that puzzled Arald, "Halt's no love for Weaver Hambly though, so I don't see why he'd be upset with you for it."

"That's rather because apparently baby adders are like ducklings, and follow their mother around at first, or well, apparently anyone they think of as their mother…" Gilan bit his lip again. "Since he killed their mom, they've rather been following me about, to the cabin, and uh, inside…"

"Good heavens," Arald gave a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Don't tell me they followed you inside here?" he frowned as he realized what that would mean. "Heavens, how many of them are there?"

"Twenty, and I told them to wait for me at the back of the keep, on the other side of the moat," Gilan admitted. "I've been trying to take them away and leave them, but they keep un-leaving. I didn't want to risk them following me, so I used the oak tree to get over the moat…"

"Of course you did," Arald shook his head. "Of course you did…."

"Well, I know I'm not supposed to, but I felt it was the better option…" Gilan shrugged.

"And how do you mean to get back?" Arald asked, raising his eyebrows as he studied the lanky boy in front of him.

"Well, Halt's a bit upset about that I didn't get the preserve, so I thought I'd go past the kitchen, and then go out the normal way. I don't think they'll much mind if I come from the tree or the gate," Gilan shrugged. "Then I thought I'd take them to the pond, there's so many snails and slugs and newts there they might just decide to stay there. With a bit of luck they will," he mused.

"I wish you all the luck," Arald chuckled. "Better get going with you, you really don't want Halt to be cross with you. And don't worry about Hambly, I'll deal with him. You get that preserve and see if you can't lose those babies…"

"Yes sir, I will, thank you," Gilan smiled as he started for the door again.

Arald chuckled as he watched him leave, the guards at the gate would be scratching their heads, the fact that someone who had not entered managed to exit. It would be good to know what they would do about it. It was the kind of discrepancy that they should report to him, but, as it was Gilan and they were used to the young man they might not think much of it.

He should however have someone saw off a few limbs of that oak, not that he begrudged the boy the method, but whatever means Gilan used to get inside, an enemy might also make use of.

If they were as skilled and as reckless as the boy…

TBC

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