Ranger's Apprentice: The Rangers' Test

Chapter 15

Halt sat on the ground, staring at the trees above him, until the sun had set. A few minutes earlier, Gilan had yawned and stretched, sitting up from where he'd been sleeping.

"Sleep well?" Gilan had asked Halt once he'd finally woken himself up enough.

Halt felt his apprentice's eyes on him. He took a moment to busy himself with unlacing and relacing his boots. It didn't need to be done, and he was sure Gilan knew that. But Halt needed a moment to compose himself.

While Gilan, and the rest of the camp, had slept through the last few hours of the day, Halt had been up contemplating his next move. Now that he knew Kennedy wasn't really Kennedy, and that he was a part of Selwyn's plan to kill Halt and use Gilan to get to his father, it was obvious that they shouldn't trust the fake Kennedy. But that hadn't been what was troubling Halt.

The dark haired Ranger couldn't find peace in allowing Gilan to go on believing that the man tricking them was truly his long lost godfather. It seemed cruel and mentally scarring. Halt felt incredibly guilty letting that go on. And yet, he knew that telling Gilan the truth about what he'd overheard in the previous hours could only serve to put his apprentice in danger. With this being such a personal matter, Gilan might not be able to contain his reactions and expressions. It wasn't that Halt was doubting Gilan's skills as a Ranger. In truth, if the roles were reversed, Halt wasn't sure if he would trust himself in Gilan's shoes.

And so, as difficult as the decision had been, and as heavy as it weighed on Halt's mind and chest, he had come to the conclusion that Gilan should not be told.

What was more, Halt had decided to go along with the fake Kennedy's plan, as it still seemed to be their only chance at escape.

"Yes," Halt said suddenly, turning to face Gilan with a completely blank expression. "I slept fine."

He held Gilan's gaze evenly, seeing the younger boy's eyes narrow.

"Are you sure about that?" Gilan challenged. "You have dark circles under your eyes."

Halt shrugged.

"I always have those," he said. "It's part of my intimidating and dangerous appearance."

"Your eyes are half closed," Gilan continued, unconvinced by Halt's excuse.

"Maybe your eyes are half closed."

"You just yawned."

"That was a silent sneeze."

Gilan crossed his arms.

"Really?"

Halt nodded.

"It was in slow motion."

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, Gilan with an unconvinced expression and Halt with indifference. Finally, Gilan shook his head and looked away. A few meters away, the rest of the camp was packing their tents and other materials. Selwyn, free of such chores as the leader of the men, was tightening the girth strap on the saddle of his horse.

"How much longer until we reach Castle Caraway?" Gilan asked, his voice suddenly low and serious. Halt turned to regard him closely. He was clearly very concerned, and understandably so. Halt couldn't begin to imagine how Gilan was feeling, knowing that his father, and childhood home, were in danger.

"I would say another day or two," Halt said. Seeing the panic in Gilan's face, he elaborated. "That is, before...Kennedy... tells us it's time to make our escape."

Halt tried his best to avoid using a bitter tone when saying the impostor's name. He watched Gilan curiously, until he was sure that the boy hadn't heard anything suspicious in Halt's voice. He was only nodding.