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 6

The lunch, Halt discovered, wasn't just a loaf of bread, but he gave Gilan a tiered look as he discovered it wasn't much better. A loaf of bread, a small leftover piece of cheese and five carrots. "One would think that someone who used to go exploring, would know how to pack a better lunch than this," he mused as he started dividing the cheese and the carrots.

"I'd call at the kitchen for it, I wasn't allowed to pack my own," Gilan shrugged.

"We had some smoked sausage, that would have been very nice," Halt shrugged as he passed half the bread, two and a half carrots and some cheese to Gilan.

"I thought you wanted to keep those for lunch?" Gilan frowned.

"Which is what we're eating now," Halt shook his head again, taking a drink of water from the canteen. "How many are there now?" he nodded to the snakes. They blended in so well with the leaves and rocks it was hard to spot them.

"Fifteen I think," Gilan decided. "If we keep this up, I don't think any of them will come back with us."

"Let's do our best to make sure," Halt urged. "We'll make another few miles, then pick up the pace. I think, if we cross the bog, and come over the river on the way back, that should discourage the rest of them."

"There's tons of food for them in the bog," Gilan shone up. "They'll like that."

"That's the general idea," Halt mused, biting into a carrot. The smoked sausage would have been very good to have brought along. Gilan sometimes didn't think about those things, that it counted as lunch no matter if they ate it in the cabin or in the woods. He was a little too worried about taking what Halt might have wanted to keep for cooking. It was, in a way, a good thing. If the boy had constantly helped himself to the best, Halt would have been far more displeased with him. Though he really needed to help him see the middle ground. He could have brought one or two of the sausages.

By the time they got to the bog, even Halt could see that they were losing snakes, as he glanced behind him, several of them would take note of one thing or another, and go off in the search for it. Though he wasn't overly fond of wading, sometimes up to his knees, in the rancid water he was more than willing to do so if it got them rid of the things. Gilan was still young enough he seemed to find it amusing, even when Halt could hear the water squish in his boots as they got up on dry land.

Shaking his head Halt made a mental note to make sure that Gilan knew about drying out boots and socks, or it was a good way to get fungus, which was a very nasty thing. They'd get wet again crossing the river, even if there was a shallow point where one could even wade across quite easily. It went up to about mid thigh for Halt, so for Gilan it certainly wasn't a problem, and it washed some of the muck from the bog away as well. Several times Halt looked behind him after that, but couldn't detect any signs of movement.

"I think they're all gone," Gilan told him. "I can't see a single one."

"Even so, you'd better be careful for a couple of days," Halt told him. "In case one or two of them decides to come back after all."

"I suppose," Gilan nodded.

"Be careful," Halt commanded. "Now, do you suppose you can stay out of trouble for five minutes when we get back?"

"I could start seeing about fixing up them holes, I tried to make note of where they are."

Halt contemplated it, then shook his head. "That can wait a day or two. Tomorrow I want us to start seeing if we can find the ones who left those prints we found. You might run up to the castle and tell the Baron that we're starting tomorrow morning, and depending on how long it takes, we might be gone a day or two."

"Alright," Gilan nodded, breaking off into a run.

"We're still about five miles from the castle Gilan, you might want to wait until we're just a little bit closer," Halt called after him, his tone dry.

"I could," Gilan paused to reply, "but we're having what's left of the turkey pie for dinner, aren't we?" He knew Halt would never risk leaving that at the cabin when he didn't know when he'd be back.

"We are," Halt confirmed.

"I'd rather get back before it's all gone then," Gilan gave him a cheeky grin.

"Then you had better run a lot faster than that…" Halt told him. "When the dinner is done, I'll start eating if you're back or not…" He would never eat it all, they both knew that, but even so, Gilan lit out like a pack of wolves were on his tail. With a bit of luck, Halt thought, it might wear him out enough Halt got a nice quiet evening. He really didn't expect it though, he hoped for it, but he did not expect to get it. Gilan was notoriously hard to wear out.

He supposed that it was due to the Battleschool training, for some reason, they had thought it a good idea to build up the cadets stamina. It might be good and well for the other cadets, but Gilan certainly didn't need his stamina built up anymore than it already was.

He arrived at the cabin as Halt was laying out the table, stumbling up the stairs and tumbling into the room, face ruddy from the exercise as the ever present smile never faltered. "Baron Arald says he'll have the men ready, all we need to do is let him know where they are."

"Good, we're leaving early tomorrow morning," Halt stated as he put a pot of hot coffee on the table. "We'll go back to where we first picked up their tracks, and follow them from there. I want to get started as early as possible, so make sure your kit is ready tonight." He knew the lad always kept his kit ready, but it was not a bad habit to go over it.

"I will," Gilan grinned as Halt divided the turkey pie. One piece was clearly somewhat larger than the other, and that plate Halt put down before Gilan's seat. It was only fair, he mused, it was the boy who had earned the pie after all. He was a good lad, he was disastrously hyper active, sometimes a danger to himself, but he was a good lad. For all the worry and frustration Halt felt, the gut wrenching fear when the boy got himself in over his head, he wouldn't trade it for anything. Teaching Gilan was more rewarding than he would have expected it to be. It made him see why Pritchard had put up with Crowley for all these years, and himself…

Going into his room the very next morning, heaving a sigh of relief as there was not a snake in sight. Not wanting to take any chances he had still slept in his boots himself. He only had to take a step in, and Gilan was opening his eyes, smiling from ear to ear as he briefly checked his bed, then threw the blanket back and scrambled to slip out of the nightshirt and get his cloths.

"We'll have a quick breakfast, then leave," Halt told him, hiding a smile as Gilan nearly brained himself on the table in his eagerness to nod a confirmation and dress at the same time.

He was a menace, and if he got through his apprenticeship before his hair and beard was all white, it was more than Halt expected. He was a good lad though, he would be one of their best Rangers when he was through.

He was already even more than that, he was family.

The End

The caffeine addicted Cricket would like to say thanks to all those who read, reviewed, gave kudos and in any way appreciated this…