Ranger's Apprentice: Alex + The Burning Bridge (Discontinued)

The Princess is Dead, Or is She?

Gilan dropped his eyes from the tortured gaze of his King. Everyone in the tent could see the pain there as Duncan realized that his daughter had been killed by Morgarath's Wargals. Gilan looked around at the other men, seeking some form of support from them. None of them, he saw, could bring themselves to meet their monarch's eyes.

Duncan rose from the chair and walked to the doorway of he tent, looking to the southwest as if he could somehow see his daughter across the distance.

"Cassandra left to visit Celtica eight weeks ago," he said. "She's a good friend of the Princess Madelydd. When all this business with Morgarath started, I thought she'd be safe there. I saw no reason to bring her back." He turned away from the door and his gaze held Gilan's. "Tell me. Tell me everything you know..."

"My lord..." Gilan stopped gathering his thoughts. He knew he had to tell the King as much as possible. But he also wanted to avoid causing him unnecessary pain. "The girl saw us and came to us. She recognized Will, Alex, and myself as Rangers. Apparently, she had managed to escape when the Wargals attacked their party. She said the others were..."

He hesitated. He couldn't go on. 

"Continue." Duncan said. His voice was firm. He was in control once more.

"She said the Wargals had killed them, my lord. All of them," Gilan finished in a rush. Somehow, he felt it might be easier if he said it quickly. "She didn't tell us details. She wasn't up to it. She was exhausted mentally and physically."

Duncan nodded. "Poor girl. It must have been a terrible thing to witness. She's a good servant, more of a friend to Cassandra, in fact," he added softly.

Gilan felt the need to keep talking to the King, to give the King whatever detail he could about the loss of his daughter. "At first, even though Alex had told us that she was a girl, we almost mistook her for a boy." He said remembering the moment when Evanlyn had walked into their camp. Duncan looked up, confusion on his face.

"A boy?" he asked. "With that mass of red hair?"

Gilan shrugged. "She'd cut it short. Probably to conceal her appearance. The Celtic foothills are full of bandits and robbers at the moment, as well as Wargals."

Something was wrong, he sensed. HE was bone-weary, aching for sleep, and his brain wasn't functioning as it should. But the King had said something that wasn't right. Something that....

He shook his head, trying to clear it and swayed on his feet, glad of Halt's ready arm to steady him. Seeing the movement Duncan was instantly apologetic.

"Ranger Gilan," he said, stepping forward and seizing his hands. "Forgive me. You're exhausted and I've kept you here because of my own personal sorrow. Please, Halt, see that Gilan has food and rest."

"Blaze..." Gilan started to say, remembering his dust-covered, weary horse outside the tent. Halt replied gently. 

"It's all right. I'll look after Blaze." He glanced at the King once more, nodding his head toward Gilan. "With Your Majesty's permission?"

Duncan waved the two of them out. "Yes, please, Halt. Look after your comrade. He's served us well."

As the two Rangers left the tent, Duncan turned to his remaining advisers. "Now, gentlemen, let's see if we can put some reason to the latest move by Morgarath."

Baron Thorn cast a quick glance at the others, seeking and gaining their assent to act as their spokesman. "My lord," he said awkwardly, "Perhaps we should give you some time to come to terms with this news..." The other Councillors all mumbled their agreement with the idea, but Duncan shook his head firmly.