Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan

Chapter 10 - Greybeard Halt

Halt pushed the finished report away from him and stretched in his seat. It was peaceful in the cabin – the only sound coming from the crackling fire, keeping away the evening's chill. He glanced out of the window; it was getting dark and night would soon fully be upon the clearing. It was time to settle Abelard down for the night. Halt stood up and grabbed an apple for his horse – a treat that was rationed to one per day, although Halt knew that Will would occasionally sneak the horse extra apples.

The apprentice in question was already in the stable, playing his mandola to the pair of Ranger horses. Halt wasn't sure whether he should feel sorry for Tug and Abelard, or relieved that he didn't have to listen.

Will now had his cast off, much to his delight, and Halt's, but mainly for the fact that the apprentice was now able to do the chores once again. In fact, Will had been so delighted that as soon as the cast was off, he stood up… only to fall flat on his face as soon as he took a step forward. Halt was in a position where he could have prevented Will from greeting the floor, but had decided that his apprentice needed an impromptu lesson in patience. While Halt had found this to be amusing, Lucas the healer certainly did not, resulting him in giving a very sheepish Will a lecture in aftercare, so all of the healer's good work would not have been wasted. Will had followed this advice to a certain extent, as evident a few days later Lucas' visit when Halt had found Will practicing his archery from a tree. Will had reasoned that sitting in a tree counted as resting his leg since it was his arms and back doing all the work when pulling back the string of his bow. Halt however pointed out that Will should not be putting his newly healed leg though too much strain, and climbing up a tree could be seen as the exact opposite. After a moment's consideration, Will agreed with Halt and scrambled back down the tree before limping off to the cabin to make lunch. Will much to his annoyance, was forced to take it easy when it rained for two weeks non-stop. Halt took this opportunity to keep an eye on his apprentice, ensuring that he wasn't doing anything that would give Lucas a heart attack (despite the healer's youth) if he ever found out. It seemed to have worked since Will was no longer limping.

Today was the first day that it had not rained, and after a day of training, Will had decided to show off his new-found musical ability to the Ranger horses, now that he was certain that his mandola wasn't going to get any kind of water damage. As he left the cabin, Halt swung his cloak around his shoulders: although they were now well into spring, it was still chilly during the evenings.

Heading towards the stable, Halt could hear an upbeat tune being played. He vaguely remembered that it was called "Saddle the Pony". Just before he reached the entrance of the stable, the tune finished and he heard Will speaking to horses from inside the stable.

"I'm going to play one more song – it's one that I've written."

Halt stopped just outside the stable entrance. Will had been a bit secretive with his mandola playing over the last few weeks, and Halt had decided that it must have been some weird teenager thing that he didn't want to know about – and probably wouldn't understand.

"When I say written," continued Will, "I mean a parody, but you have to promise not to tell Halt – especially you Abelard. If I find out you've told him, you won't be getting any extra apples from me. Halt's writing reports. He'll be occupied with them for a while, so we're safe."

Halt heard the horses shake their manes in agreement, and despite his better judgement, Halt let curiosity get the better of him. He peeked his head around the entrance to the stable. Will was sat with his back facing the entrance, absorbed in playing the introduction to "Old Joe Smoke". Abelard and Tug looked towards him, but Halt gave them the "silent" signal before they alerted Will to his presence. Listening to the introduction, Halt wondered why he wasn't allowed to listen, but his question was answered as soon as Will started to sing.

"Greybeard Halt is a friend of mine,

He lives on Redmont's hill,

Greybeard Halt never took a bath,

And they say he never will!

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

Fare thee well, I say,

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

I'll see you on your way.

Greybeard Halt, he lost a bet,

He lost his winter coat,

When winter comes, Halt stays warm

By sleeping 'mongst the goats.

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

Fare thee well, I say,

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

I'll see you on your way."

Will was proud of himself. So far so good; he wasn't making any major mistakes, just about fumbling through the tricky interlude that he had only recently managed to teach himself. He continued playing, gaining in his confidence.

"Greybeard Halt, he lives with goats,

That's what I've heard tell,

He hasn't changed his socks for years,

But the goats don't mind the smell!

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

Fare thee well, I say,

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

I'll see you on your way.

Greybeard Halt is a fighting man,

I've heard common talk,

That Greybeard Halt, he cuts his hair,

With a carving knife and fork!"

He was nearly finished – just the final chorus left. He was impressed at how well he had played, and also thought that Tug and Abelard were amused at the song.

"Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

Fare thee well, I say,

Fare thee well, Greybeard Halt,

I'll see you on your – ACK!"

Will was cut off as he was pulled forcefully to his feet by someone grabbing his shirt collar. He dropped his mandola on the straw covered ground, with one hand scrabbling to his saxe, while the other pulled at his shirt to prevent him from being strangled to death. Turning, Will sought out the identity of his attacker, only to find himself face to face with Halt; a furious Halt – and furious was an understatement.

Will let his hands drop uselessly to his sides.

"Halt… how… how much did – you heard all of it didn't you? I'm so so sorry Halt –"

Without a word, Halt – still tightly holding onto Will's shirt collar – marched towards the trees at the edge of the clearing.

"I'm really sorry Halt," jabbered Will, stumbling as he tried to keep pace with his mentor. "You're going to kill aren't you – please don't kill me Halt – I'll make it up to you – I won't ever ask any questions ever again – please Halt – don't kill me!"

Halt ignored Will. He paused at the edge of the clearing, looking around as if thinking over something. Will looked hopefully to his mentor, but any hope of forgiveness was dashed when he saw that Halt's face was still a sheer mask of fury.

Whatever Halt was looking at, he soon came to a decision when he dragged a now silent Will approximately a hundred yards or so to their left, stopping at the base of a particularly tall tree. Halt roughly pushed Will forward.

"Climb," commanded Halt, in a voice he normally reserved for dangerous criminals.

Without hesitation, Will scrambled up the tree faster than he had ever climbed before. He climbed as high as safely possible, and perched himself on a sturdy branch. Looking down through the branches, he saw the small figure of Halt give a nod of grim satisfaction, before going into the cabin. With a sigh of resignation, Will wriggled himself into a more comfortable position and wrapped his cloak tighter around him, counting himself lucky that he wasn't dead – well not just yet.

Not long after dawn, Will watched as Halt came out of the cabin and strolled over to the base of the tree. Looking up, Halt located his apprentice and made eye contact with him. Halt now looked calm; although Will knew that a calm looking Halt could be worse than a furious Halt. Will had been awake all night – not only from the freezing cold – but also from worrying about what would happen to him; something that he was about to find out now.

"Come down boy," called Halt. Will hesitated for a second before climbing down to face Halt. It had been a long, long time since Halt had called him "boy".

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Will turned to Halt.

"I am truly sorry Halt – it will not happen again."

The Ranger's dark eyes gave nothing away as he scrutinised the apprentice, who had to try very hard not to squirm under that cold, hard gaze.

"Bucket is by the door, water is in the stream, thirty-one buckets to fill the barrel," listed Halt. "I need breakfast – preferable bacon and eggs. The pans need scouring. Rugs need beating – in fact I do believe the entire cabin needs to be cleaned. The stables need a thorough cleaning. Firewood needs fetching. Reports need to be delivered to the castle. I think rabbit will be a good choice for dinner tonight, so someone is going to have to hunt for that. Is that all clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. When you've finished all that, come and find me. I have plenty of other things for you to do."

Will nodded his affirmation and set off to collect the bucket.

"Oh, and Will?" called Halt, causing Will to turn around and face the Ranger. "If I ever hear you play that song again – you'll be pushing up daisies."

Will gulped and turned back to his task. No doubt Halt very much regretted buying him that mandola.

That's it - the final chapter to this story.

Thank you to everyone that has read this story and a big thank you for the last time for those who reviewed/favourited/followed this story - treat yourself to a biscuit - what the heck, everyone can have a biscuit!

I've updated twice in one day, so count yourselves spoilt!

I found the lyrics for "Greybeard Halt" from the Ranger's Apprentice Wikia, and "Saddle the Pony" is an actual folk tune, which you can find on Youtube.

So yeah - I have nothing else to say... apart from the good old fanfiction motto: Review please! :)

-SeekerMaxia.