Ranger's Apprentice: Your Fault

Chapter 5

HE HEARD THEM WHISPERING not far off. Abelard snorted, his ears pricking up straight. "I hear them," he whispered, patting the horse on the neck. Their words weren't distinguishable, but their intention was clear.

He continued on, pretending to be unaware, slumping further down in the saddle. Suddenly, there was a strange whistling noise in the air behind him. Halt tugged on the reins and Abelard pranced to the side, tossing his mane. The knife whizzed right past them, coming to a stop in the trunk of a tree, still quivering as it hit the bark.

In one fluid movement, he slung the bow from over his shoulder, reaching for an arrow and nocking it to the string. "Funny," he said aloud, dismounting. "Most people would think you'd have to be a fool to attempt an ambush on a Ranger." From the tree line, a man emerged, followed by two others. "And with more than three people, too."

"Most people," the man in front agreed. There was another knife in his hand, and there was hatred emanating from him. "But then again, most people don't have a reason to, according to you."

"Is that so?" Halt narrowed his eyes, raising his bow. "I'm giving you one chance to surrender before I just shoot you and be done with it, and I'm angry enough to do it."

"Go ahead," the man sneered. "Do it, then, murderer. "

It's your fault they're dead.

He faltered, his gut twisting. "You're the one that attacked me first," he said softly.

"Do you remember me?" The man tore off his hood, dark blue eyes narrowed, and what looked to be tears glimmering in his eyes. "Korren. Does that name ring a bell in your mind?"

Halt snorted. "Korren? I thought you were dead." The memory of that day flashed in his mind, and he curled his lip in contempt. "I remember you. You tried to rob that mother and her son. Do you expect me to hold any pity for you?"

"The boy!" Korren shouted, his voice raspy. "He was sixteen years old, and what did you do? You shot him! He died in my arms, Ranger, and whose fault was it? It was yours!"

It's your fault.

He dropped the bow, stepping back. He did remember now. He remembered as the young boy rushed towards the woman, sword gleaming in his hands. And he remembered the arrow that had hit him from the back, remembered the wild panic in those eyes, remembered the anguished scream that had torn through Korren's throat. He remembered...

It's your fault.

What if it was? The boy had died, and he'd barely given it a thought. But the boy was dead because he'd shot him. Daniel was dead, and so was she. They were all dead because of him.

And then there was another whistling noise, followed by a strangled grunt. The man on Korren's right dropped to the ground facedown, the arrow sticking out from his back, the red and black feathers a bright mark of death.

The figure emerged from the side of the road, his hood still over his face, another arrow already nocked to the bowstring. "I'd lower that knife if I were you," Will said, his voice low.

Korren snorted. "And who are you? A friend to this murderer? You're probably just like him, aren't you?"

"I don't think that matters." He raised the bow again, aiming it at the man's chest. "Put the knife down, or I'll shoot you. It's really quite simple."

Korren bared his teeth. He threw the knife to the ground, raising his hands in surrender. After a moment of stunned silence, Halt stepped forward, his heart in his throat.

"Will?" he whispered.

The young man turned his head towards him. He gave his head the slightest of shakes. "You." He looked at the man beside Korren. "Tie his hands together. If they're not tight enough, you won't make it out of here alive."