A/N: Hello everyone! I hope that you and yours are staying safe and well. I did want to apologize for such a long delay. I had taken some time to recheck my next directions and final check/add more detail to my outline for these upcoming last chapters/arcs. Then my work, in combination with school, got super busy and difficult to balance... and then I got sick for a few weeks. (It's been "fun" XD) But I'm back now X) Anyhow, for this chapter there were a few things I needed to tie up, some characters that needed introducing to each other, and circumstances that needed introducing, so there's not a ton of action in this chapter, sorry about that (but there definitely will be soon as we move towards the final conflict). I hope this chapter proves enjoyable despite that. Thanks so very much for reading!

(I put the response to the reviews at the end this time as they got a little long. I hope that you all don't mind.)

Chapter 23: Subversion Part I

Halt was silent for a long moment after Gilan had finished telling his story. And, although he had told it succinctly, unembellished, without much emotion other than the hints of anger or pain that sometimes slipped past his guards to edge his words—and had brushed over much of the details about his time in the dungeon leading up to his expulsion—it still seemed to twist into an ugly convoluted mess. He cursed under his breath.

"No one ever learned the real truth?" Halt asked, breaking the silence that had started to grow between them.

Gilan wasn't looking at him. He hadn't really made eye contact once since he'd started his tale. He was sitting with his head bowed, fingers absently bunching the hem of a small corner of his surcoat into a tight knot before letting go. His whole posture was still tensed, almost crumpled inward, as he waited in resignation, or perhaps weary anticipation, of reprisal. But, at Halt's words, he looked up sharply, as if surprised that his mentor wasn't dismissing him outright. The relief and gratitude in his eyes was almost palpable—which answered Halt's question, even if it hadn't been with words. He had to try hard not to rub at his temples as he decided what to say next.

"I'm... sorry all that happened," Halt said finally, quietly, not liking how inadequate it sounded despite it being the truth. He put a hand on his former apprentice's shoulder, fingers tightening lightly in a supportive grip. Gilan stilled a moment before returning the gesture.

"So am I," Gilan said then with a wan attempt at a smile.

The telling of it hadn't been an easy thing for him; not only because it rehashed so many of things he'd spent so long trying to move past and forget, but also because a small corner of himself had been worried that Halt might be disappointed in him for his part in the whole mess or, worse, that he might disbelieve him as everyone else had done. He didn't think he could have lived with that. Finding that not to be the case had left him feeling lighter than he had in a long time—had somehow started to ease a festering weight he'd kept close to his chest for far too long now.

"In the end, it wasn't all bad," Gilan spoke up as a thought occurred to him. "If I hadn't run off, I probably wouldn't have found Will and Horace again. That alone makes it worth it, in a way."

There was that, Halt had to agree. It didn't make it right for anyone, but it did make it sting a little less he supposed. That one good outcome, however, didn't make him any more appreciative that any of this had happened. A moment of silence passed between them before Halt finally asked a question that had been burning at the fore of his mind ever since he'd heard Gilan's story.

"And the merchant? Whatever happened to him?" Already he had added man's name to the growing mental list of people he very much wanted to track down and meet with. "I'd give a lot to know exactly where to find him."

"He's about a meter or so underground by now," Gilan said flatly, frowning as he stared out at the gently shifting shadows of the night.

Halt glanced sharply up at him and Gilan explained.

"A person like that isn't one who could stay out of trouble for long; it seems he ran afoul of the law himself shortly after I did. I heard it didn't end very well for him."

Halt sensed that there might be a little more to the story than Gilan was telling, but he was willing to admit that he was, perhaps, more than a little satisfied with that outcome all things considered. He nodded.

"What about everyone else involved: the false witnesses? The guards?"

Gilan grimaced and then shrugged. "Still living happily in Highcliff so far as I know."

"And you? After you left, you never settled down anywhere?" When Gilan shook his head in confirmation he asked. "You never regretted refusing the opportunity to stay in Highcliff?"

Gilan shook his head again. "I wasn't about to live my life with a crime I'd never committed hanging over my head like that. Even if I changed who I was completely and became the perfect soldier or knight, I'd never be free of it. I knew that no one would ever really trust me again. And there was no one that I could trust or rely on anymore either. After t—… after everything that happened, I knew I would forever be looking over my shoulder if I stayed. Anyone could do…" He took a breath after a moment and tried again, "Nothing would be… And my father…" he trailed off as his voice broke. "… I couldn't live like that," he finished finally, his voice barely above a mummer.

Halt nodded. He couldn't fault Gilan for that decision or fault his thinking. Halt had also chosen to run when faced with a fairly similar situation—given up his home and inheritance. In a way, he was still running. He closed his eyes then, a frown spreading across his face as much at the thought as the memories that came with them. He opened them again when a sudden question occurred to him.

"If you knew all that, why didn't you run from the start?" Halt asked quietly.

"I was in the castle dungeon and chained, you know," Gilan pointed out.

Halt raised an eyebrow.

Gilan looked down. "The truth is I never really tried."

"Because you'd given up on it?" Halt asked, feeling a little sick.

But Gilan shook his head again. "I thought that if I tried to run or escape it would only make me look guiltier. And I thought…" he paused for a moment, looking away and clearing his throat. He took a breath then let it out a short bitter sounding laugh. "I was young and naive and I still had… faith, I suppose: that they'd do everything to find the real truth, or that the truth would eventually come out. I guess I thought that the nobility, the knights, Barons, Rangers, and King, were a bit infallible—that they didn't ever get it wrong in the end…. Incredibly stupid, I know." He raised a hand to forestall what he was certain would be an admonition or lecture from Halt. "But you have to remember I was raised by those very people to think that. I guess it makes them seem larger than life or unquestionably trustworthy." He shot Halt a smile. "I also didn't have your jaded and grumpy presence around to knock some sense into my skull." The smile turned wan and didn't reach his eyes anymore as he shrugged. "I soon learned though."

"And so did Will, I suppose," Halt said bitterly, "And Crowley, Pauline, Horace, Arald. All while I was twiddling my thumbs in Gallica."

He was surprised when Gilan nudged him gently, companionably, with his elbow. "You can't blame yourself, Halt. You were just doing what you needed to, to survive, same as us. What was it you just told me? It's in the past and what we do now is more important anyway?"

"I think you might be paraphrasing that a bit too much. Besides, I said that back when I was nearly convinced you were a desperate criminal who'd decided to turn over a new leaf."

"Who says I'm not?" Gilan asked, innocently. "Besides, it's surprisingly good advice."

"Surprising, is it? And what's that supposed to mean?"

Gilan only grinned in answer.

"Turning over a new leaf indeed," Halt snorted. "I think you might be a little confused as to the meaning of that term."

~x~X~x~

The next day found Sir David and Arald's party camped near the fenlands, close enough to be in a position to repel the invasion force, yet far enough away not to be discovered by the Wargal army if they scouted around the immediate area around the fens.

Pauline had split off from their party the night before on urgent business and Baron Arald had called a council of war in the tent that they had designated as the command tent as soon as Gilan returned from the scouting trip he'd been sent on.

The knights and Ranger gathered around the table that Arald had set up, one that had a detailed map of the fief spread across its length. All eyes were turned towards the young mercenary as he gave his report.

"I found a camp of Morgarath's men and soldiers about nine kilometers outside the fief's boundaries. It's just due southwest of the old north road," Gilan said, indicating the point on the map where he had seen them. Baron Arald, the two Battlemasters, and Halt leaned in for a closer look. "There are about a hundred men and Wargals all told. The Wargals probably make up about seventy percent of the force. There are about twenty human soldiers and ten mounted officers," Gilan finished.

"Then we can assume that this is where the main force is stationed," Baron Arald said grimly. "Question is, do they intend to join the force that's already inside by sneaking in through the gap like the others?"

"If they hold true to the timetable I overheard while in Morgarath's lands, it's unlikely," Halt said. "We're only a few days away from the date of their attack—if all the information I heard was correct. While we've been monitoring them, they've never been able to get more than twelve of their number in per day. It's simply not feasible."

"So, it's more likely they are reserves, waiting to support the Wargal party when they invade." Sir David said. "Does that fit with what you saw?" he asked Gilan.

"It fits with what I saw and with what we think their overall goal is. They plan to use the party that's inside to take this fief by surprise. It makes sense they'd have a party in reserve to support them when they break through. Once they get their foothold here, they'll likely want as strong a force as possible to continue the push into other fiefs." Gilan said carefully, thoughtfully. The shadow of his cowl hid most of his expression but not the tense thoughtful frown that had spread across his face.

"But there's something that's troubling you about it," Halt said and it wasn't a question.

Gilan hesitated for a moment but nodded. "It's just that there is something about the troops I saw that not sitting well with me, but I can't put my finger on…" he trailed as his eye settled on the smaller map that had been placed neatly on the corner of the table.

It depicted the other countries surrounding Araluen, Hibernia, Gallica and further north… His eyes narrowed as he suddenly placed the feeling of wrongness that had been plaguing him, nagging at the corner of his mind ever since he'd discovered the encampment. The significance hadn't been in what he'd seen on the scouting trip, but rather in what he hadn't seen.

"I saw no sign of any Scandians," Gilan said. "We haven't come across a single party of them on any of the scouting trips we've undertaken—which doesn't make any sense because that was some of the earliest intelligence we managed to gather: that Morgarath had hired Scandian mercenaries. If this incursion is as big as we think it is, Morgarath would want to commit all available resources to it, wouldn't he? So why haven't we come across any of his hired Scandians?"

He glanced at Halt for confirmation and the older Ranger nodded grimly at him, frowning. It was an expression that matched most everyone else present now that the troubling question had been raised.

"Could he be holding them in reserve further back than the group you saw?" Sir Rodney asked after a pause.

"It would hardly help the main invasion force if they were," Sir David put in. "If they're too far back they wouldn't be in any position to provide any timely support."

Their arguments and questions were put to an abrupt stop when Halt stepped forward, interrupting them by holding up a hand for silence.

"It seems to me that we are all forgetting something very important," he said once all eyes were on him. "Scandians are predominantly a seafaring people and Highcliff is a coastal fief."

At his words, most of the party blanched as they realized the implications. As one they leaned in to get a closer look at the coastline on the map.

"Gilan, Sir David, I assume both of you know the land around here fairly well?" Halt asked suddenly.

When both men nodded Halt continued. "I know that most of Highcliff's coast is like the name implies: cliff-like and with little by way of good spots for ship landing in general. But there is bound to be a few places where it's possible. Do either of you know any?"

Gilan nodded and regarded the map's depiction of the coast thoughtfully. "This chart doesn't show them, but there are actually small coves and beaches all over the place where ships could make landing, but few of those places have good access back up the cliffs, and fewer still have enough space to accommodate a large fleet of ships."

David nodded agreement. "He's right about that. And I believe we can also assume that the attack itself won't happen anywhere near the upper northern border if the Scandians aim to be able to join the main party here to flank us in time. It would hardly be practical for them to make landing too far away. This," he indicated a point on the map, "is probably as far north as is practical. Which leaves only two places where it is feasible: Boswin..."

"And Cramelford," Gilan finished for him.

"Tell me about them," Halt said, "and maybe we can narrow it down further between the two."

"They're both fairly small but established towns near the coast, built by bays that cause a natural break in the cliff face. Boswin is the smaller of the two and further north," Gilan replied promptly then hesitated; an expression that seemed almost to be a wince briefly crossed his face. "…Unless, of course, things changed since I was last here."

But David shook his head. "That's pretty much the short of it. Boswin's population has grown a little since they established a new trade route. But Cramelford is almost exactly as it was…" He trailed and then brought a hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. "Well, aside from that newfangled religion that most the town has been taken with these last few years."

At that news Halt and Gilan exchanged a meaningful glance but, before either of them could pose the obvious question, Arald broke in to beat them to it.

"What religion might that be?"

"I believe they are called the Outsiders…" David mused, "They have been cropping up in a lot of places here in the west, so I'm told. Can't say I understand the appeal myself," the Battlemaster shrugged.

"I think I have a fairly good idea where the Scandians might make landfall if they are planning to join the invasion," Halt said then.

~x~X~x~

"Will! I'm so happy to see you again!" Alyss said, still holding Will in an embrace before she leaned back. "When I wasn't able to find a way for us to write each other, I thought, I worried, I might never hear from you again." Her smile turned questioning. "How did you come to be here? How did you manage to make it out of Bawtry?"

Will beamed excitedly. "Well, it's a bit of a long story but actually, but the short version is I joined a mercenary band and started traveling all around the country. I've been learning archery, knife work, and even a little swordsmanship. I've saved some towns and villages from bandits, caught wanted criminals—fought and escaped from an evil cult. I've even been learning cooking, cartography, tracking, sums—and kept up with, and learned more, reading and writing!" He beamed at her.

"Hold on," Alyss said holding up a graceful hand against the torrent of words—zeroing in on the first thing her old friend had said. "You became a mercenary?"

Will rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, an apprentice mercenary at any rate."

A small frown pulled at the corner of Alyss's lips. When she had tried to teach Will how to read and write all those years ago, becoming a mercenary hadn't exactly been the way out for him that she'd had in mind. However, considering the carrier she was pursuing, she knew she had no right to dissuade him on the count of it being a dangerous occupation. But she did want to know one thing.

"Are you happy?"

She was relieved when Will nodded without hesitation.

"More than I've been in a long time." He said honestly. Then he smiled widely as he remembered something fairly important. He stepped out of the doorway to reveal Horace who had been standing behind him.

"Alyss, I want you to meet my other best friend Horace," he introduced, pulling the larger boy forward by his sleeve.

Alyss tried to hold back a smile—not having the heart to tell Will that having multiple best friends pretty much negated the whole idea of having a 'best friend'.

"It's good to meet you Horace," she started to say politely, but then looked closer at him. "Horace?" she asked, recognizing him.

"Hello, Alyss," Horace smiled almost shyly raising a hand as he recognized her too. "It's good to see you again."

"You know each other?" Will asked, surprised but genuinely overjoyed that his two friends already seemed on good terms with each other.

"We were both wards from Redmont Castle, but when Redmont fell, we were sent to Drayden Castle," Alyss explained. "I left when Pauline took me as an apprentice—I thought you were going to try for knighthood. How did you end up as a mercenary?"

Horace's expression fell and he flushed. He shifted from one foot to the other as he opened his mouth to speak but no words came of the effort.

"We'll tell you our story if you tell us yours?" Will offered, coming quickly to his friend's rescue.

"Good idea," Alyss agreed, ushering them into her room so they could catch up. "I was just about to have tea and it should still be warm."

"That sounds good," Will enthused.

"Is there any food, by chance?" Horace asked following after her, perking up substantially.

~x~X~x~

The sun had started its descent across the sky by the time the three friends had caught up with each other. They sat comfortably in Alyss's room, tea long since gone, pastries too.

Will was glancing around Alyss's neat room and spotted a cot set on an opposing wall and what looked to be a traveler's pack.

"Are you sharing this room with someone?" he asked curiously.

Alyss nodded solemnly. "With a girl named Evanlyn. She's staying with lady Pauline and I until she can make it back to the family that employed her. She actually has a very interesting story," Alyss said conspiratorially, leaning in closer to them.

At Will and Horace's curious look she elaborated. "Apparently she was the handmaiden of an Araluen lady who went to visit relatives in Gallica."

"Was?" Will asked.

Alyss nodded. "Her lady's party was attacked by a Gallic warlord and only Evanlyn escaped. Then, apparently, she got trapped in Morgarath's lands for a while trying to get back to King's lands in Araluen. She got rescued by a Ranger who dropped her off here until we can find a way to get her back home."

"She sounds like an interesting person. She'd have to be pretty brave to make it through all that," Will said, both impressed and sympathetic to what she'd gone through.

"Where is she now?" Horace asked.

"She's probably in the courtyard practicing with her sling," Alyss said then. "If you'd like, I could introduce you and show you around the castle on the way."

Both boys agreed readily enough. They were both intrigued by Alyss's friend. They also were curious to know more about Highcliff Castle too. Both knew that it was something they should be familiar with as soon as possible for the sake of their assignment, after all.

They arrived in the courtyard in short order. When Alyss indicated Evanlyn, Horace found himself mildly surprised. With the way she dressed and the short cut of her hair, he might have mistaken her for a boy if he didn't already know better. As they approached, she used her sling to hit the center of three targets in fairly rapid succession.

"Nice shot!" Horace said approvingly. He and Will knew well knew how much work it took to get to that level of accuracy.

Evanlyn, turned, surprised, not having realized that she had an audience. But before she could say anything, Alyss stepped forward to introduce them.

"Evanlyn, I want you to meet Will and Horace. They're friends of mine that will be staying with us for a while."

"Pleased to meet you, Will and Horace," Evanlyn said politely, tucking her sling into her belt.

Though she'd looked like a boy from behind, she definitely didn't from the front, Horace found himself thinking. She had a pretty face with striking green eyes. Though her smile was polite, her face was set in firm, almost harried, lines, eyes a little distant. But if Alyss's story was true, he couldn't blame her; she'd clearly been through a lot. He thought then that he just might have a bit of an idea of how that felt. He winced sympathetically.

"You're very good with your sling," Will complimented genuinely.

The hard lines of her face softened a little, even as he checks reddened faintly at the compliment.

"I've been practicing just about enough for it," she ducked her head. "Thank you."

"Indeed," Alyss agreed, conversationally. "You've practiced from dawn to dusk more than a few times already."

"Why so much?" Horace asked curiously.

Evanlyn tensed a little at the question and then shrugged. "It's silly, I suppose," she flushed deeper. "It's just that I thought that if I got better with the sling—that maybe I wouldn't ever find myself defenseless again and that maybe... I could actually protect the people I care about—if it came to it."

"There's nothing silly about that," Horace said and Will nodded.

"I agree," Alyss put in, "In fact, those are often the reasons most people learn weapons. It's why Couriers train with the dagger, and nobody calls us silly for it."

Evanlyn seemed to relax a little at that, mollified, her smile becoming more genuine for a moment before it faded. "I just keep thinking that if I was better, that maybe I could have helped Halt…" she said, mostly to Alyss. "I still don't even know if he made it out alive."

"Former Ranger Halt?" Will asked, perking up at the familiar name.

"Dark beard, grim, kind of scary, but actually not so scary when you get to know him, Halt?" Horace added.

Evanlyn brightened. "You know him?"

Will and Horace nodded in unison.

"He made it out of Morgarath's lands with us and our mentor. He's working with Baron Arald and Sir David now," Horace said.

Relief flooded visibly through Evanlyn, easing her tight posture. She put a hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling wetly. "I'm glad to hear it," she said thickly. "I don't' think I could have lived with another person…" she cut herself short with a shake of her head and a wry smile. "Thanks for telling me," she said to them, the smile turning warm with gratitude.

She was very pretty when she smiled like that, Horace found himself thinking, at a loss for words. He shuffled his feet and mumbled something he hoped sounded like a 'you're welcome'.

Evanlyn glanced at the direction of the sun, where it now hung low in the sky, and then back to Alyss. "I'm sorry, time got away from me," she said apologetically. "I didn't miss meeting with you and your friend, did I?"

Alyss shook her head. "No, don't worry, that was going to be tomorrow." She turned towards Horace. "I know we were both very young when Redmont fell, but you remember Jenny don't you?"

"Jenny?" Horace asked, surprised, a sudden, uncomfortable, stone seeming to settle in the pit of his stomach. "She's here too?"

"She charmed Chubb, the chef at Redmont, into being his apprentice before Redmont fell—and Chubb goes most everywhere Baron Arald does," Alyss explained, nodding. "We were going to have a picnic tomorrow, outside the castle grounds. But I suppose I should go and find her and tell her to prepare for two more people now that you are both here." She smiled at both of them. "We can make a party of it. I'm sure Jenny will be happy to meet you officially Will: I might have mentioned you to her a few times," Alyss admitted before turning to gracefully to Horace. "And I'm sure she'll be happy to see you again too, Horace."

Horace looked down but not quite quickly enough to hide a faint grimace. "Yeah…" he said noncommittally.

"I think it's best if l go tell her now," Alyss said, "before she gets too busy with the dinner rush. I can still show you both the rest of the castle on the way if you'd like." She looked expectantly at Will.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Will said as he started after her, genuinely happy at the prospect of making another yet another friend. "Horace, are you coming? Will asked, looking behind when he sensed that his friend had not followed them.

"I think I'll follow Evanlyn's lead and get some practice in before it gets dark out."

"You sure?" Will asked, searching his friend's face carefully.

Horace managed a smile. "I'm sure."

"I'll see you when I get back then," Will said brightly. "We can work on the double knife sword defense before bed."

"Sounds good," Horace said quietly as he watched them go, a small pained frown spreading across his face.

Will chanced a look back as soon as he and Alyss had nearly made it back to the main body of the castle, knowing instinctively that there was something bothering Horace. He had just resolved to ask him about it later that night when they were alone when he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. He looked up to see an older knight making his way towards the administrative area of the castle, urgency quickening his steps. Both Will and Alyss had to step hastily aside so as not to get trampled by the man.

"Wonder what that was about?" Will asked rhetorically as soon as the knight had passed out of earshot.

"Perhaps he's got something important to report," Alyss suggested.

~x~X~x~

Sir Richard waited impatiently, almost desperately, for Baron Douglass to see him. Every minute he waited only added to his anxiety and the awareness that every second that passed increased the danger they were all in. His information was vital after all—and he had already been delayed for far too long.

This was because it had taken him quite a while to finally place the feeling of foreboding and familiarity that had plagued him ever since he'd very nearly crashed into that mercenary forester. But he had eventually placed it—and, more importantly, placed the forester himself.

After all, Sir Richard had seen more than enough of him to recognize him… to know him. And know him to such a cutting point that it really was almost unthinkable that he hadn't been able to place the face sooner. Yes, he knew the mercenary; so much so that he'd needed to take a moment to move past the visceral, sweeping, and all-encompassing pain, rage, and hatred that overcame him the moment he'd placed his face before he could even start to piece together why the boy had come back—fathom what possible motive he could have for doing so.

Even as he waited now, he could feel his hands trembling; whether it was because of rage or because he genuinely feared for the safety of Sir David and all the troops that had left with that fiend, he could not say. But what he did know with the clarity that came from absolute certainty, was that they were all likely in serious danger; the fief itself was in danger, for that boy was a monster—and one he well knew was too far gone to be saved by anyone.

The hard truth was that Sir David had missed all his chances with his son and everyone in Highcliff had ended up paying the price for it.

Richard, for his part, knew that some behavior was so disturbing and so vile that it could only be beaten out of a person before they could learn. It was how he had been raised after all—and he was an exemplary knight. Sir David was a good commander and Richard respected him in that regard. But he wasn't a very good father; he'd always failed to properly discipline his son.

So Richard had taken it upon himself during the month following the boy's arrest for the fire—an easy enough task as he had been the knight in command of the guard assigned to man the dungeon at the time. And if the acts had helped to ease the pain of losing his best friend and her unborn child, then all the better. He'd thought it could help them both… bring him the justice he deserved and teach the boy the lessons his father had failed to.

But it hadn't been enough, could never have been enough. No matter what he tried, no matter what he did, he hadn't been able to ease the choking weight of his own pain and he hadn't able to knock the cruelty out of the boy, hadn't been able to teach him humility, respect, or his place. He hadn't been able to get him to feel shame or regret for his vile actions—or even get him to voice an apology that he truly meant. The boy wouldn't even admit to his crimes, let alone have the decency to feel the slightest trace of remorse or guilt for his actions and the pain he caused. That was when Sir Richard had realized it was a lost cause.

The boy was a monster: cut from the same cloth as the likes of Morgarath. There was just something so inherently wrong with him that it couldn't be fixed. Not even the flogging had helped; he'd seen the boy at his final trial as soon as he could walk again—standing there as defiant, disrespectful, sharp-tongued, and unrepentant as ever.

Sir David's son was the type to take whatever he pleased at whatever cost. And it showed in his unwillingness to conform, his inability to respect and follow the rules and the law, and in his penchant for cruel pranks and mischief. There was always something dark behind his smiles and easy-going nature, always a selfish ulterior motive behind his every action. He possessed neither soul nor empathy: but many people never noticed this, or simply overlooked it, because he had a pretty face and a clever tongue. But the truth was the boy cared for nothing but his own amusement and satisfaction. He had murdered Richard's best friend and her child simply because he thought it would be fun. There was no saving a person like that.

He closed his eyes as he thought of her, his best friend. They had grown up together, always been there for each other. In fact, if it hadn't have been for Rubin, they would have had something together, he was certain. She had even told him as much once: told him that, if Rubin didn't stop his drinking before the baby came, she would leave him, and they would be together. He closed his eyes against the festering pain in his heart. She never had a chance; they never had a chance before it was too late…. And the child—he'd never had a chance either. Now their murderer was back.

The door to the adjoining room opened suddenly and Sir Richard nearly jumped, startled from his thoughts. The seneschal stepped inside.

"Baron Douglass will see you now," Philip said as he held the door to Baron Douglass's office open.

Richard rose and stepped inside, unable to still the tremors in his hands from his pent-up nerves and the anger he had held onto so tightly for years now. Baron Douglass looked up as Richard entered; setting the quill he was using to write with aside as he regarded Richard with inquisitive, cool blue eyes.

"Ah, Sir Richard, Philip said you had something important to tell me?"

"Yes, my lord," Richard bowed. "It's about the mercenary that is leading our knights to flank the Wargals. He cannot be trusted! I believe he intends to lead our army, our fief, to severe harm!"

Baron Douglass steepled his hands underneath his chin, his eyes narrowed in thought or perhaps intrigue.

"What do you mean? He seemed trustworthy enough at our meeting, and Baron Arald and his entourage vouched for him. Why do you believe him to be such a threat?"

Richard, bolstered by the baron's interest and nearly palpable concern—as well as his own sinking emotions—stepped forward. "Because he is Sir David's son!"

"You're certain of this?" Baron Douglass asked, eyebrows lifted in surprise, clearly taken aback by Richard's claim.

Richard nodded vigorously. "I ran into him before they left, you see; his is not a face that I would soon forget! Our whole party could be in serious danger! Either he plans to sabotage the mission for revenge to serve his own petty vendetta or, more likely, he is in league with Morgarath himself and leading your men into a trap! After all, where else would he have gone when you banished him? Someone like him would have no place in the King's Lands and he would have known it! He would have sought out people like himself: like clings to like after all!" It was for that very reason that Richard had long ago thought it would have been better for everyone for the boy to have been executed—and already he was being proven right. "You need to send a rider out to warn your party before it's too late!" Richard insisted.

Baron Douglass's eyes were narrowed in intrigued thought—and likely worry too. And well he should be, Richard thought.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Richard," the Baron said finally after a pause. "I will make sure the appropriate actions are taken."

"Thank you, Milord," Richard said with a bow, recognizing the dismissal in the Baron's words. Likely as not he knew he needed to plan and act immediately—and Richard wouldn't risk getting in the way of that. They had little time left after all.

A/N: Thanks again for reading! I always appreciate feedback if you're of a mind/have the time to leave some (it helps motivate the muse and I'm always looking to improve). So long as my work and school stay balanced I don't foresee any especially huge delays in the near future, thank goodness. Things should be moving along again then. Next week I will probably go into what Crowley has been up to, Halt, Gilan, David, Arald, and Rodney try to figure out what to do about the two imminent attacks, and Will and Horace make new friends, have new adventures, and start to discover some potentially dark and deadly secrets about Highcliff. (Now the only person missing from the old Will's friend squad is poor George. Perhaps I'll find a way to include him later somehow. I like George X).)

I hope you all stay healthy and safe! Until next time!

jaymzNonoel: Thanks so much for the encouragement and the review, it really does mean a lot and I do appreciate the effort/time you took. The battle with the Wargals will be coming soon and you might, in fact, get the chance to see those people's reactions to being lied to. It felt right to have Halt be the first to know the truth—especially since he doesn't have the situational bias and lies to influence his judgment, not to mention the trust that already exists between them from the other time. Glad it came off well. Thanks again!

Dragonslover98: Thanks so much for the two reviews! Yeah, I agree the merchant's frame job makes a lot more sense for the situation and the characters involved. Poor Halt XD he can face down hordes of enemies and deadly situations without batting an eye, but when it comes to Pauline, not so much. (I felt bad for him in the Early Years books… though it was also a little cute in a way.) Also, Arald, XD the poor dude didn't ask to be sucked into all these interpersonal conflicts XD Thanks again for the reviews! They very much made my day to read.

Jammeke: Thanks! I agree that Gilan starting the fire by himself does seem pretty OOC for what we know of him—no matter the timeline difference. I'm glad you think it fits well enough for the situation and when it comes to explaining why David and Gilan have been acting as they have. Yes, pretty soon the two of them are going to have to work even more closely together for the sake of the fief and kingdom, so there's going to be a bit of tension coming soon. I'm looking forward to writing it. Yes, I'm pretty sure nobody got off easily after Morgarath's manipulations and machinations in this verse. Thanks again for the review and kind words, I really appreciate it!

Moon: Thank you so much for taking the time to review. And thanks so much for the compliment and encouragement. You won't have too much longer to see what's next.

Guest: I'm very sorry for any heartbreaking that I might have caused. Yes, Gilan does deserve better, doesn't he? Things will eventually get better for him though, I promise. Thanks so much for the review!

Ranger Alice: Thanks for the review and the encouragement! Are you asking what I'd make of Alice if she was living in this AU verse, or just in general? I also read to escape from life, stress, and sadness, so you are definitely not alone! I wish you the best and hope things start to look up for you soon! Thanks again, and see you 'round'!

BookLover4242: Yes, there is definitely going to be a little crossover in the respective skills Will and Horace learn under Gilan—I'll get into more about that later. Both Will and Horace are going to end up with a little more and different skills than they learned in the original timeline. I agree that that would add a lot more to Horace. Thanks so much for the review! I appreciate it.

Gerbilfriend: I was trying to be as realistic as possible when it came to my thoughts on what would happen if Halt never took Gilan as an apprentice—especially when we know how dissatisfied, dissolution, and bored he was with his training as a knight: I figured that it was bound to get him into trouble. I do apologize for causing you pain, though. Thanks so much for the review! It means a lot.

TrustTheCloak: I do apologize for any heart hurting. Yes, the whole situation is a gigantic mess of misunderstandings, manipulations, lies, and hurt feelings. I'm actually looking forward to reconciling everything related to this—especially since the situation is going to make these two have to work together closely. Thanks so much for saying so. It means a lot, especially coming from you (I absolutely love your work). Thanks so much for the reminder!

Ranger River: Thanks so much for reading! And thanks also for the review. I can promise that things will eventually work towards reconnection/healing as the story progresses. There will actually be a little bit more about the merchant and his story in later chapters... (and perhaps some well-deserved comeuppance for what he did). Thanks again for the review, it made my day.

Djanka Lee: Thanks so much for the two reviews. It's been fun playing with the relationships that everyone has, or had remain, or is in the process of remaking because of Morgarath. When I was thinking about this book, I realized that Halt really has had a hand in so many things when it came to Araluen's success as a kingdom and the lives of all the characters in RA. Thanks again for the reviews, they made my day!

KingTitium: Thanks! Glad you found the chapters okay-ish XD That means a lot to hear! I also appreciate your constructive criticism and perspective. It's totally fine if we interpret things differently after all. I am aware that Gilan is more than capable of overtly being sad, angry, and frustrated, and that his situation with his dad would/should (and did) cause those kinds of feelings. But, I promise I didn't just randomly write him as I did without thought and deliberate choice. His situation is very different from what we've seen in Canon so far, but I tried to base his actions off the ones seen in cannon and extrapolate from there. If you'd like to know my thoughts on why I wrote him as I did I'll put them below. As I see it, and tried to write it, there is a very big difference between truly not caring and putting on a façade to make people think you don't care and purposely suppressing things; the latter of which was what I was going for. (However, since this wasn't as obvious as I thought, it most likely means there was a break in my ideas and my actual writing, so I went back and edited to make that a little more clear/apparent.) As for the why of it: in the books, the way he shows anger/seriousness when dealing with enemies is different depending on the situation. If it's an immediate thing, something he has control over and can deal with in the moment, he shows the serious, overtly dangerous side of himself more. (Burning Bridge, Slaves of Socorro). But when it's something that isn't as immediate or directed, or something he can't do anything about in the moment, he shows the anger differently: you get the smiling at enemies, more of a façade, even acting/playing more manipulative sort of games with happy cheerfulness that he might not truly feel (Erak's Ransom, Scorpion Mountain, The Inkwell and the Dagger). And Gilan dealing with his father is more of that second situation: especially since he needed to get his father's help. It's shown many times in the books that Gilan is able to put aside personal feelings for the sake of the mission. And getting overtly angry, emotional, and threatening by rehashing and discussing their past wouldn't help him in that situation. Besides that, and as he's been written so far in my work, their troubled past isn't even something he even wants to rehash/revisit or reconcile at the moment; he would've been fine to still be avoiding his father entirely if it wasn't for the circumstances that forced a meeting). But, if it helps, I can promise there is definitely going to be a time where Gilan will be more genuine towards his father about how he truly feels and what he really thinks—especially since the circumstances are going to force them into working closely together in future chapters. Phew! That was longer than I expected, sorry about that. Anyways, hope that helps! Thanks again!