Warnings:
Wounds, UNEDITED CHAPTER (I will look at it in the morning but it is 23.14 and I am tired right now.), feels
The young woman could not turn her head towards her shoulder, fear stiffened her every movement. With wide eyes she looked at Crowley who was still facing the entrance. He had an arrow sent towards the attacker before they could run off. She took the arrow in between her fingers, without looking and snapped the largest part off. Gilan had taught her that you should never take out an object if you've been impaled, it would only cause you to bleed out. And especially with arrows and their barbs it could further tear the skin. Breaking off could help avoiding to get it caught behind something and ripping the wound open.
"We're going." He commanded with a tone that left no room for a quarell that the woman had not even dreamed of beginning.
Her wound pounded and ached, making her head feel cold and empty, as if an early autumn mist had been laid upon it. At all moments her surroundings seemed to be further away than they actually were and Crowley had to steer her to prevent her from running into the rows of benches decorating the haunting chapel.
"I don't feel well, Crowley," she whispered weakly, too afraid her last meal would come up if she said more, "I really don't."
He kept his gaze focussed on the opening, too worried about the dangers still lurking beyond to be concerned about the girl as well. If he'd lose his concentration for even just a second, they'd both be dead anyways. It was better to worry later, safer.
After entering the clearing he pulled the female apprentice behind him and scanned the tree-lines and rooftops before hurrying to the horses. Her black mare had already darted forward, throwing her head back in distress repeatedly.
A ruffle in the bushes alarmed the corps' commandant to the man before he understood the horse. Throwing the girl unto the ground, he reached for his throwing knife and swiveled around in one smooth movement. The hooded intruder had a knife in between their ribs before they had raised their arm to fire an arrow.
He heaved the young woman from the leaf-covered forest soil onto her nervous animal companion. Cropper trotted towards his owner as well, but being a bit older and heavier it took him longer. The red-head shook his head at the shabby-haired horse coming towards him and climbed on top. Looking over to the wounded apprentice with furrowed brows he pressed his heels against Cropper's belly, who hobbled into a fast gallop. The little black horse followed suit, with her owner clinging onto her mane with her one good arm.
While he had made an effort to leave that place so quickly, he had no idea where he was headed. Returning to the castle was too risky, it was crawling with people who would spread the word about the events in a matter of hours. A part of him was glad of this threat, as the king had been scheduled to arrive for the last duel, however now he had an excuse to postpone the wedding ceremony and the king's arrival. He had read the contract from Lord Picard and Sir David and there was something odd about it, but he couldn't quite place it. The fact that he had to give up one of his best Rangers to be an accessory to those Scoti still made him furious. He knew it was hard for the young Ranger as well, especially since he wasn't just giving up the role he loved dearly, but something else close to his heart as well. Bringing her there would only make it more difficult. At castle Araluen none of it would have been a problem, but there were very limited options in Caraway.
So, Crowley decided to visit the one person he could think of, who really did not want to see him, but who could help. If she did.
***

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