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 15

Though the loss of Blaze weighed heavy on him, Gilan couldn't help but stare at Redmont Castle in amazement. When he left to follow Halt and Will, it hadn't meant very much to him. Now, it was not only familiar, but in many ways home. He had spent many years here, and he had loved it.

Logically he knew it was not his fault that he had not responded more to sir David, he had not known it was his father, and he had not said he was. Given the situation, Gilan couldn't have been expected to know. Then when he had overheard him, and the man he now realized must have been King Duncan, he had been hurt. It was no wonder, not really, and yet he could not help how he felt. Embarrassed and guilty.

Unconsciously, he shifted a little closer to his mentor. Halt noticed, and smiled softly to himself. Will was growing up, he had come such a long way from the child that had appeared at his cabin one morning, so out of depth and yet so eager. It sometimes made him worry that one day he would be superfluous, the lad would be a full Ranger and no longer need him.

Then the next moment there was Gilan, who had always been so very self-reliant and confident, since he was just a small child, well, a tall child he amended…and still seeking his help. It was good to know that they still needed him, that he could still offer them something. Certainly, this was not something that was ordinary, and not something he had ever seen before. He had never seen anyone loose their memory before, not that way. He'd seen plenty who suffered a gap after taking a blow to the head. Some lost hours, some a few days, but none he had ever seen had lost their whole life.

He had seen how he had struggled, and now, when he knew who he was again, he instinctively sought out Halt's comfort. It gave him hope that even when Will was grown, he would still have a place in his life.

"We'll let the guards take them to the dungeons, and head straight up to the Baron," Halt decided. "Though we'd better take care of the horses first, I imagine we'll be here for a while."

"Do you think the report will take that long?" Will frowned. "I didn't think it would."

"Making a report to Baron Arald, at this time of the day, it's generally hard to get away without staying for supper…" Gilan spoke up with a grin. "I remember Master Chubb's turkey pie… I don't know if I did before just now."

"So you don't remember everything?" Will asked and Gilan shook his head.

"A lot, I think, but there are some really big gaps…"

"What don't you remember?" Will asked, and frowned as Halt shook his head with a groan.

"Your guess is as good as mine…" Gilan shrugged. "I think I'm missing some stuff from when I was little, unfortunately the harvest festival when I was four isn't one of them. I could have done without that…" he wrinkled his nose. "I really could have done without that, and the badger stew…."

"No one wants to remember the badger stew," Halt interjected.

"I think I'm missing a lot of the recent stuff," Gilan mused before Will could ask what was wrong with the badger stew. "The last thing that I can say for certain when it was, is about six months ago. After that, I'm not sure."

"But you remember your training, so you can still be a Ranger?" Will asked, heaving a sigh of relief at the nod.

"At least I think so," he stated. "I only remember four gatherings during my apprenticeship. I think I'm missing one, but I don't think that's important."

"You only have four to remember, and it's not important," Halt stated. "But the final word will be up to Crowley. Now, we got more important things to do," he nudged Abelard forward, to alert the guards they had prisoners. Explaining why Gilan had missed one gathering would take too long right then, and wasn't something he wanted to go into at the moment. Especially not since it was his last one, when he was supposed to have graduated. Will seemed ready to question it, but Gilan only shrugged and nudged his horse forward, to flank a man who had just contemplated making a run for it. He was quickly discouraged, and all of them were taken away by the Baron's men.

Taking their horses to the stable, the three Rangers then made their way up the stairs to Baron Arald's office.

They were ushered in, and found that not only Arald, but also Lady Pauline was there.

The latter looked at them, and took in the somewhat sheepish smile on Gilan's face. "Gilan, this is terrific," she beamed as she embraced him.

"Hang on, does that mean he's got his memory back?" Arald frowned. He might not have realized it as instantly as Pauline did, but he figured he knew what her reaction meant.

"Not all, but most of it," Halt answered for him. "He doesn't remember what happened, but apparently, he did remember enough to decide he could disobey me…"

"Oh, I'm sure you had a good reason," Pauline smiled brushing her hand lightly over his cheek

"I thought I did," Gilan beamed, enjoying the now familiar touch.

"How could you tell?" Arald gave Pauline a curious look. He was by no means dimwitted, rather, he was fairly smart with sharp observation skills and a good sense of judgment. Even so, he hadn't been able to tell just from looking at the boy.

"I know that smile," she mused. "And if he hadn't got his memory back, he wouldn't have been able to smile that way."

"Still missing some pretty large chunks," he bit his lip. "I don't think I really acted my best either, I'm sorry…"

"Oh, don't be silly," Arald was the one to wave the apology away. "You couldn't very well be expected to under the circumstances…"

"I don't think I really wanted to accept that anyone knew me as well as they said they did, I could probably have been a lot more open, and tried a lot harder," Gilan shook his head. "Everyone was trying very hard to help me, and I don't think I was very receptible."

"You were in a very tough situation, I don't think any of us would have handled it much better," Pauline stated, a tone of finality in her voice. "And we know you did your best."

"I'm not sure if I did," he sighed. "I wish I had, but I'm not so sure I really did. I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Pauline urged. "It must have been so frightening…"

"It was," he agreed. "Terrifying."

"Then, that's all that needs be said on the matter," Arald declared. "Now, let's have that report on those men you brought back. It's almost dinner time, and it seems we have a lot to celebrate. Actually, there is a chance we might have something to celebrate with…" striding to the door to the outer chamber where his aid would be waiting he opened it. "Ah, Martin, just the one I was looking for. Run down to the kitchen and tell Master Chubb that Ranger Gilan has regained his memory, and see if he can't put together something a little special… Short notice I know, but anything will do. I believe we still have some boar, I'm sure he can think of something…" Smiling he turned back towards the room.

"Well, then, let's hear that report," he stated.

Halt quickly gave the facts, giving his former apprentice a stern look when he said he had told Gilan to head up to the castle, and that instead, Gilan had followed them.

"Disobeyed, did you?" Arald laughed.

"Something like that," Gilan shrugged. "I figured I could always claim I forgot what I was supposed to do…"

Arald gave a hearty laugh at that, though Halt didn't seem amused. Pauline, ever the diplomat, simply hid her smile behind her hand.

With a pointed look at his first apprentice, Halt continued the report.

"Well done," Arald exclaimed once he was through. He rubbed his hands together. "This certainly calls for a celebration…"

"I need to thank Sir Rodney and Sir Wallace for all the time they've put on trying to help me," Gilan stated, a sheepish look on his face. "I can't imagine that was easy, I really couldn't see how I was supposed to be as good as they said."

"No one would have found that easy," Pauline told him firmly. "I certainly can't picture that I would have. And what little I was able to do, I was glad to. We all care very much for you, so I should say none of us minded."

"Indeed not," Arald proclaimed as he stood. "Now supper awaits us… Let's see what Master Chubb has found for us, eh? I'm sure he'll have managed something. He's a true marvel and he continuous to surprise me…"

"I remember the turkey pie," Gilan smiled as the small group left the office.

"The turkey pie is worth remembering," Arald laughed, ushering him ahead as they started down the stairs. "And should there be none for supper, I will make sure you get one before you leave…big one…" with a bright smile, he placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. A gesture of friendship, though he was completely unprepared for the reaction he got.

With a cry of surprise, Gilan threw himself forward, away from the Baron. The action so violent that he lost his balance on the spiralling steps and pitched forward.

Arald though stunned, tried to grab him, to halt his fall, but was unable to.

Gilan brought up his hands to protect his head, but still hit the wall with enough force to bounce back, continuing his uncontrolled decent.

The stairs in the castle were many, narrow and steep. As a defensive measure it was quite well designed. Anyone found them hard to navigate in numbers. There was also a design to the direction they curved around the centre column. A right-handed swordsman invading would be at the disadvantage, as he would find his sword arm hindered by the column, and his body exposed. While the one defending, was protected by the column, leaving his right arm free. Arald had seen it used, and was impressed by how effective it was, until one came against a left-handed swordsman, or one trained to be left handed.

Arald had only ever been trained to use his right hand, but knew Gilan who had been trained by MacNeil, the foremost swords master in Araluen was almost as skilled with his left as his right.

Being able to use your left hand to aid you in a fight on the stairs though, does not help you at all when tumbling down them and Arald knew very well how serious a fall could be. Every year there were several broken bones from similar tumbles.

Rarely deaths, but often very serious injuries. Sometimes leaving someone crippled for life.

A short, stout figure shot past him, and Arald hadn't thought Halt would be able to do anything, but the Ranger had grabbed on to Gilan's cloak, as well as a niche in the wall, and arrested his fall with a sharp jerk.

As Arald hurried down the last steps to them, awkwardly trying to kneel with his rather large bulk wanting to get in the way, he noted the dazed and wide-eyed look on the young man's face.

"Gilan, are you alright?" he couldn't see how his touch could have caused him to fall, but Gilan was seemingly struggling for breath, raising a shaky hand to his head.

"He pushed me…!"

TBC
The caffeine addicted Cricket wants to thank you all for reading...