This is a Gilan appreciation post.
So I’ve just re-read Erak’s Ransom and I feel like we need some major appreciation for Gilan in this book.
“Gil! Did you know we had to dance?” Will asked. Gilan nodded enthusiastically.
“Oh yes indeed. Jenny and I have been practicing for the past three days"
Jenny looked up at him adoringly. Gilan was tall, dashing, good-looking and amusing. Jenny was in love.
King Duncan looked up and swept his gaze slowly around the room. Cassandra, he saw, was defiant as ever. Halt and Crowley’s faces were inscrutable in the shadows of their cowls. There was a hint of admiration in Will’s eyes as he continued to stare at the Baron. Rodney was nodding in agreement with Arald’s statement, while Gilan made a show of studying his nails.
“You three don’t have a lot of sympathy, do you?” Svengal asked.
“Not really,” Gilan agreed cheerfully.
Will would have expected to be aware of anyone approaching him so closely.
Anyone but Gilan, he corrected himself. The young Ranger seemed to be able to move in total silence when he chose to. He was the Ranger Corps’ recognised master of unseen movement.
Gilan had a claim on Will’s respect that was second only to Halt’s. He was an expert archer, like all Rangers. But unlike any of the he was also a master swordsman. He was also, as Will had just been reminded, an expert in the art of silent movement.
“But what if I make a mistake?”
Gilan threw back his head and laughed. “A mistake? One mistake? You should be so lucky. You’ll make dozens! I made three or four on my first day! Of course you’ll make mistakes. Just don’t make any of them twice. If you do mess things up, don’t try to hide it. Don’t try to rationalise it. Recognise it and admit it and learn from it. We never stop learning, none of us. Not even Halt.”
“Will is just a boy.”
Gilan smiled at him. “Haven’t you noticed, Halt? He’s been growing up. He’s not the skinny fifteen-year-old you took under your wing any more. He’s already a Ranger, in all but name.”
“Would you trust him with your life, Halt?” Gilan interrupted and Halt looked at him.
“Yes,” he said quietly. Gilan patted his shoulder once more.
“Then trust him with his own,” he said simply.
“They were hidden behind those rocks to the east,” Gilan said. “Maybe eighty or ninety of them. most of them on horses but some on camels. They had a diversion party to the north - perhaps ten riders. They swooped in, feinted an attack then turned and ran. When the escort broke ranks and went after them, the main party hit from behind.“
Selethen looked at the younger Ranger with a new respect. “You can tell all that just by looking at the ground?”
He turned to the younger Ranger, who was relaxing, the small of his back supported by his saddle, the ever-present coffee in his hands. “Gil,” he said, “d'you think you’re up to taking a look look at their camp tonight?”Gilan smiled and finished his coffee. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.
It was said that Gilan could approach to within a few metres of a wide awake sentry, steal his belt and his shoes, and leave the man wondering why his pants were falling down and his feet were cold. Horace knew it was an exaggeration - but not by much.
Gilan grinned at Cassandra. “Make sure we hear you. There’ll be plenty of yelling going on.”
He was so relaxed and unworried, she thought. His casual manner helped to ease the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach.
One of the guards rode close to Gilan. He had lost three friends to the Rangers’ arrows during the attack and he took every opportunity now to crack his spear shaft painfully across the Ranger’s shoulders and back. The fourth time he did so, Gilan turned and looked at him with a peculiar smile.
“What are you looking at, foreigner?” the guard demanded roughly. The smile was a little unsettling, a prisoner shouldn’t smile at his captors like that.
“I’m just making sure I can remember you,” Gilan told him. “Never know when that might be useful.”
The spear cracked down across his shoulders. He flinched, and then nodded meaningfully at the rider before he began plodding up the hill once more.
“Another thing…” Gilan began.
“Oh my God,” said Halt wearily.
Gilan moved into the thin rank of defenders and began weilding the unfamiliar curved sword as if he had been using one all his life. The speed and power cut though their defences like a knife through butter. Men fell before him, or reeled away, sinking slowly to the ground.
