Ranger Apprentice One-Shots

A Lesson in Courage

One of those stories that jumps into your head right at bedtime. I wondered a lot about the courageous girl who sacrificed her life for Cassandra. What could have been her life like? 

It was his own fife. It was the first time he was on his own, without Halt. And Gilan was so nervous his stomach cramped.

 True, nothing had happened that he had been unable to handle, so far his only problems having been a few disputes between neighbors or chasing down the rumor of a wild bear that turned out to be damage from a bovine creature. Gilan had ruefully smiled as he thought of the hours spent in following up leads and "sighting", only to have a man apologize for tweaking the truth a little in the village bar. Meric Fife wasn't a trouble spot, it was true-new Rangers weren't billeted in an area that would be truly problematic; and Gilan sold himself short, truth be told. He was a very skilled ranger, with bow and sword-a skill not usually found in the Ranger Corp. 

 But for the hundredth time he worried still, as every new graduate did, what if he let his mentor down? What if he did the wrong thing?

 His mentor had not said much when they parted, merely saying he would stop by and see him in a week or so. It had already been five days, Gilan reflected, so maybe the Senior Ranger would be showing up tomorrow. Or tonight, he thought with another smile, in the middle of the night when his apprentice least expected it.

 The forest he was passing through was calm and the heat of the day pressed upon the leaves, trying to break through their barrier and ruin the delightful respite the forest gave from the rays of the sun. Blaze was relaxed but if anyone thought him dozing they were sadly duped by the appearances. Carefully trained, he was scanning the forest with every one of his senses, as was the long-legged Ranger he carried. They were in the middle of the woods when a sound rent the air. A scream.

 Blaze snorted, but stopped quietly as the young ranger pulled him around quickly, already having pinpointed the location of the sound. Horse and rider carefully left the path and to the right, not galloping headlong but moving almost silently on the thick carpet of needles underneath. Twisted brambles and low branches made it necessary to dismount. He could go quicker on foot anyways. Gilan strung his bow with efficiency born of long practice. A Ranger practices until he never gets it wrong.

 Stealth had been his best subject, and he moved like a shadow. You saw where the ranger had been, but never where he was, if you watched with eyes trained to follow the difficult target. Pausing for a moment he thought he heard voices, and strained his ears. It sounded like a man's heavy and nasal. And a lighter pitched voice, a child's. It was sobbing and the man's voice raised again in anger. Following their guidance, Gilan circled until he came out behind the adult. 

 He was burly, wearing a forester's garb and wielding a club like stick in one hand. The child was cowering against the tree; dirty, tangled hair concealing most of her tear-streaked face as she held a hand up as if to ward off the blow coming.

"This will teach you to listen better to your father!" The man yelled.

"And this will teach you to not pick on those weaker than you," Gilan thought angrily as he nocked an arrow silently, taking a second to aim before letting the arrow fly through the air and embed into the club. Even as it left he was already changing positions, hearing the yell of surprise with a grim satisfaction. As the club dropped to the ground, the man spun with a hand on the hilt of his dagger, trying to pierce trough the bushes. "Who's there! Show yourself!" He turned, Gilan following so he was always at his back, until the man was facing away from the girl by the tree. When he turned back he started visibly in surprise, then anger replaced it as his beady eyes took in the bow and cloak.